


This Is Not A Meet Cute

by i_buchanan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: 'they were dating the whole time' trope, Alternate Universe - College/University, Emotional Slow Burn, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Non-Serum Steve Rogers/Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes | Shrinkyclinks, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Queer Themes, Sort Of, Switching, Trans Male Character, Trans Steve Rogers, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, meet ugly, mostly top Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2020-05-13 19:46:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19257949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_buchanan/pseuds/i_buchanan
Summary: Bucky doesn't mean to get involved in the altercation. He doesn't /want/ to get involved in the altercation, especially when his ex is involved and he looks like a well-fucked mess.Bucky doesn't always get what he wants, however, but at least the not-especially-grateful guy he rescued is cute





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey it's me, back on my bullshit with more trans Steve because I need more trans representation in my life and I apparently can't go a week without posting these days. I'd say this fic is currently ~85% done right now, and I'll be posting every Monday
> 
> I really hope you like reading this as much as I like writing it <3
> 
> There's a couple quick content warnings I'm going to put in here, since they only happen the one time and it didn't feel like it warranted a tag up top. So, quick CW for brief violence and a homophobic slur

This was absolutely not what Bucky Barnes wanted his Sunday morning to look like.

It had started out well enough. He’d woken up in someone else’s bed with that someone still there, naked and warm and more than willing to goad Bucky into another round.

Whether it was the third or fourth was really a matter of semantics at that point.

And, ok, the sun was out, so that was nice. But his partner from last night had definitely torn the neck of Bucky’s shirt, didn't have a brush to lend him, and left an obvious trail of hickeys down his throat that made it extremely obvious what he had been doing last night.

And this morning.

Which all would have been fine, if he hadn’t run across Rumlow hassling some kid in some dingy alley not even a block from Tony’s apartment.

Normally he might have looked the other way. Was he particularly proud of that? Not really but there it was anyways. Problem was, Bucky happened to catch the exact moment Brock’s fist connected with the guy’s jaw with an audible crack. He caught the moment that he hissed ‘fag’ between clenched teeth, in spite of the fact that he had no issue with gay people so long as they were spreading their legs from him.

He was pretty sure he saw blood, but Bucky couldn’t say with any certainty given how quickly the blond crumpled to the ground, practically wheezing for a few terrifying seconds.

Now, Bucky liked to think that he knew when to mind his own business. This just wasn’t one of those times. And judging by the slow, predatory steps forward Brock was taking, he was going to have to jump in quick.

He ducked into the alley, physically yanking Brock back before he could do anything else. “Brock, can’t you take a day off from being the world’s biggest ass with the world’s smallest dick?” Bucky asked, making sure to employ that ‘unsurprised, but vaguely disappointed’ tone his mother liked to adopt when he or one of his sisters did something exceptionally stupid. Trying not to give away the fact that his heart was in his throat and his right hand would definitely be shaking if it wasn’t locked around Brock’s arm.

Neither Brock, nor the kid--who upon second look probably wasn’t really a kid, but he  _ was _ short--looked overly pleased to see him. The blond actually glared at him a little, though it faltered once he gave Bucky an obvious once-over.

Bucky was almost embarrassed, but grateful the kid was at least conscious, if bleeding from the lip and definitely a little bruised up.

“Well it looks like you still aren’t taking a day off from being a slut,” Brock responded cheerfully, forcing Bucky off of him with a solid shove. “Maybe you should mind your own business, Jaime.”

If Bucky had miraculously forgotten why he’d ended it with Rumlow before, he remembered very well now. “Just because you haven’t managed to get any in the last couple months doesn’t mean I have to refrain. Why don’t you get out of here before I have to make a scene? Because you and I both know I’m better at that than you are.” He clenched his left fist, intentionally ratcheting it up so that the metal plates audibly recalibrated.

He couldn’t miss the way Brock’s eyes flicked to it nervously. The same kind of disgust in his eyes that he’d usually looked at it with, and that just made him feel even more sick to his stomach.

It looked like there was going to be a standoff, the blond kid almost seeming to hold his breath as he slowly got upright on wobbly legs.

(Bucky should probably stop referring to him as a kid. He was almost positive that he’d seen the guy on campus at least in passing.)

Thankfully, Brock backed down first, shooting a disdainful look at the guy before knocking into Bucky as he passed, heading back out into the open street and muttering the entire time about how he had better things to do.

What a prat.

“You all right?” Bucky asked after a few stilted seconds. Only to immediately wish he’d just shut up and maybe skulked off himself.

“I didn't need your help, you know.”

Bucky had to blink a few times. He hadn’t expected a voice like that to come out of someone this guy’s size. Deep, resonant, definitely lower than Bucky’s. Authoritative, even.

“Maybe I just wanted to take the opportunity to hassle an ex,” he fired back after a few seconds pause. “Might not’ve had anything to do with you.”

At the very least it got a scoff out of the blond, his eyes rolling. There was a weirdly angelic look to the guy, which was only ruined by the bruise blooming on his cheek and the blood at the corner of his mouth. It might have been the pretty eyes he had. Big, bright blue with a frankly ridiculous fan of darker lashes around them.

Not as ridiculous as his company from last night, but no one did doe eyes like Tony Stark.

“Yeah, all right. I’m fine; you did your good deed for the day.” He waved Bucky off a little dismissively, the silver rings on his fingers catching the light.

It was before noon on a Sunday and Bucky’s thighs were still sore from last night. He should  _ not _ be admiring the broad palms and delicate wrists of a gorgeous little twink already.

“Pretty sure for it to be a good deed, it has to  _ not _ benefit me,” Bucky retorted, a little belatedly. Christ. He was usually better at the snarky banter. Or, at least he was usually quicker on the draw.

“Well, and it has to benefit  _ me _ , so you failed on both counts.” In spite of the cutting words, there was a growing smirk on his lips and something definitely amused in his eyes. It wasn’t quite ruined by the flinch when his mouth spread too wide. “It’s the thought that counts.”

“How about I see about patching you up at my dorm? Would that make it better?”

The kid--seriously, Bucky really needed to get his name--looked about as surprised as Bucky felt. The anger and sarcasm faded away for a split second, and it almost made Bucky ache in a weird sort of way.

The bravado snapped back in place almost immediately, brow raised a little cockily. “I don’t know if I can reasonably be seen with a guy named ‘Jaime’,” he teased.

God, right, that. Bucky winced a little bit, mouth pressed in a firm line. “It’s James. Bucky. Rumlow’s the only one who ever called me Jaime.”

“Bucky.”

“It’s a nickname, shut up.”

The sharp edges of the blonde’s smile softened, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners. “I feel like Bucky’s an even  _ less _ acceptable name, but it’s kinda cute on you.”

It was official. Bucky was a bit of a goner for this guy.

He had a not-so-secret soft spot for bossy, pushy guys who could be a little bit mean. See: him spending the night with Tony Stark who was the second most demanding person Bucky had bedded in his life. See also: his asshole of an ex-boyfriend who tended to push ‘mean’ a little too far for even Bucky’s taste.

“Do I get your name at any point, or do I just have to pick one for you?”

“I’m not getting renamed by a guy who thinks Bucky is passable.” Still, to soften the blow, he beckoned Bucky to follow as he turned neatly on his heel. “It’s Steve. You going to show me where your dorm is, or should I just risk running into my own roommate like this and have him patch me up instead?”

There was a split second where Bucky found himself just… just watching him move, almost like a creep, before remembering to keep up. The fact that he was easily half a foot taller than Steve proved helpful there. “Yeah, sorry. I kind of expected you to turn me down.” Again, Bucky found himself cringing a bit. A lot of this whole ‘constant foot in mouth’ thing could be excused by the fact that Bucky had spent a good three hours over the last 12 getting fucked within an inch of his life. That was the only thing saving his ego at this point.

That fact was something that Steve could probably tell at a glance, but he was still all right with following him to his dorm. So at least both of them were a little bit of a disaster, which was comforting.

“Yeah, well. That makes two of us,” Steve said lowly, practically muttering to himself. “So. You dated that?”

Bucky pulled a face as he fell in step with Steve. They were still a couple blocks from campus, so there was a little ways before Bucky had to do any actual guiding. “I was eighteen and it was a mistake. My roommate still hasn’t spoken his name since the fallout, and he wasn’t even around for the dating part.”

Steve snorted, looking weirdly pleased. “Solidarity. I can respect that in a roommate.”

The rest of the walk was a lot of idle chatter, though the few students who were actually out of their dorms at this hour kept pinning Steve with odd looks. When Bucky wasn’t looking at him head on, it was almost easy to forget that he was developing a hell of a bruise. He sure as hell wasn’t  _ acting  _ like he had been five seconds away from getting the shit kicked out of him.

At least the cut on his lip hadn’t bled much, regardless of the fact that he kept fucking smirking. Entirely too invested on getting Bucky to squirm to stop because of a little thing like pain, apparently.

“He’s probably still asleep,” Bucky said as he unlocked the door, “and he sleeps like the dead so you don’t  _ actually _ have to worry about waking him up. But, y’know. Maybe we can keep it quiet, a bit.”

Which was true. Clint had the talent of sleeping through just about anything, from being slowly dragged onto the floor to the covers being ripped off of him. The fact that he was almost entirely deaf meant that they didn't actually have to keep it down, but it was something that Bucky was still in the habit of anyways.

And, honestly, that wasn’t something he wanted to tell Steve, a near stranger, considering that Clint could get a bit defensive over it. Not that Bucky blamed him for that. He’d seen how people would start treating him differently once they knew.

Steve took it in stride, however, a small smile playing on his lips as he mimed zipping them shut.

Which was frankly adorable.

It didn't occur to him until later that he should maybe warn Steve that the dorm was a mess. As soon as the door opened and they were faced with a week’s worth of clothes strewn about the place, textbooks lying open on most of the flat surfaces, Bucky almost felt a little chagrined.

Then again, maybe Steve was just as bad. Or maybe his roommate was. Either way, there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

“First aid kit’s through here,” Bucky said softly, easily picking his way through the mess. It was familiar to him. And he knew which parts of the piles were  _ actually _ important, and which ones were just mess.

The only good thing about Clint being an accident prone disaster was that Bucky learned early on to keep an overstocked first aid kit in the bathroom. Not minding too much that it took up all the space under the sink.

Without any prompting, Steve hoisted himself up onto the vanity, heavy boots thunking against the fake wood. “That looks like something my ma would have,” he commented watching Bucky sort through the various bandages. “Granted, she’s also a nurse, so I think she’s got an excuse for it.”

Bucky looked up specifically so Steve could watch him roll his eyes. “Look. I’ve lived with this guy for over a year now. It’s definitely necessary.”

Steve hummed lowly, and Bucky went back to his task. Belatedly realizing that he should have probably grabbed an ice pack from their mini-fridge before holing up in here.

He made a mental note to get one later.

It didn't take long until he found the antiseptic, not even thinking before moving to dab it on the corner of Steve’s lip until he was already halfway to touching him.

And Bucky  _ really _ shouldn’t be staring at the guy, at the fullness of his mouth compared to the sharpness of his cheekbones. A balance that was so close to being off, but somehow looked beautiful on him.

Steve tipped his head to the side just a bit, assessing. But Bucky wasn’t blind enough to miss the darkening of those bright blue eyes.

There was just the barest hint of green in them, he thought.

Bucky had to swallow thickly, tearing his eyes away just to get ahold of himself. What was  _ wrong _ with him? He pulled this guy out of a fight not even an hour after his last partner, and now he’s practically eye-fucking him in the bathroom.

Christ. He was a hot mess, maybe even on par with Clint.

“Sorry,” he murmured, focusing back on his task and dabbing the ointment at the corner of his mouth.

Said mouth quirked up just a bit, thankfully not disrupting his work. “Adrenaline’s a hell of a thing, huh? It’s fine; I get it.”

While it probably wasn’t something as simple as a hit of adrenaline, Bucky was thankful for the excuse. “This happens a lot, then?”

Suddenly, Steve looked almost sheepish. Shoulders lifting just enough that Bucky could notice it. “I may or may not find myself in a lot of fights.”

Somehow Bucky didn't find that surprising. A quick glance at Steve’s hands showed a couple old scars across the knuckles along with fresh scrapes along the heels of his palms. They were barely shaking, making it obvious that he wasn’t quite as unperturbed as he was acting.

He took to spreading the ointment on them as well before rifling for gauze pads. Whether or not it would prove effective was questionable, but it seemed better than doing nothing. “I’m guessing that your roommate is pretty used to this kind of thing, then,” he said drily.

“Yeah, but you might be cuter, so maybe I’ll let you play nurse for me instead.”

Bucky scoffed, pressing the pads to Steve’s hands. “Might be? You’re going to have to try harder than that if you’re trying to charm your way into my pants.”

It was a glib remark, maybe half teasing. So when Steve flipped their hands, tugging it forward to press them against his hips, Bucky would admit to feeling almost at a complete loss. “Cute. But it takes more than a quick patch job to get into mine.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks, embarrassed and more than a little fascinated. A probably dangerous combination. To say that he liked the chase would be an understatement, and it looked like Steve wanted to play as well.

It took him longer than it should to take his hands off of Steve’s bony hips and return to wrapping gauze around his palms. He had to clear his throat before trying to respond. “Well. I guess we’ll see which one of us cracks first.”

Thankfully, aside from the scrapes and bruising, Steve wasn’t really in bad shape. He’d patched up worse injuries on Clint after a drunken night in.

“I can get you something for your cheek,” Bucky offered once he secured the wrappings down. The white bandages contrasted with fair skin and the heavy rings probably shouldn’t have been as eye catching as it was.

Then again, there was a solid week he’d spent admiring Tony’s bronzed hands wrapped up in bandages from various cuts and burns because he refused to wear gloves while in the lab unless  _ he _ deemed it necessary.

Which wasn’t often.

And it was probably a weird kink to entertain, but it wasn’t like Bucky wanted to  _ hurt _ anyone. Or even see the injuries to begin with.

It was probably just a weird aesthetic thing and nothing more.

When he finally looked up to meet Steve’s eyes, there was something almost soft there. He hadn’t quite noticed how much of a guard up he had up until Bucky could almost see behind it for a split second.

“It’s just a bruise,” Steve said quietly. Gingerly sliding off the vanity and leaving mere inches between himself and Bucky. “Thanks, though. I should probably go before Sam starts to actually get worried.”

Right. His roommate, probably. Bucky was assuming, giving the at least somewhat overt flirting, that Steve wasn’t attached. And Bucky was pretty sure even  _ thinking  _ about being in a relationship gave him hives, so that wasn’t an issue.

Probably he should ask before doing anything else.

“Want me to walk you out?” he asked, already opening the bathroom door. Only to flinch when he heard a crash from the kitchenette and Clint’s wordless complaining.

If anything, Steve seemed to find that amusing given the grin spreading across his lips. Definitely a little more lopsided now than earlier. “I think you should maybe go back to playing nurse. Seems like you get a lot of practice, huh?”

In spite of Bucky’s assurances that it was fine, the door was  _ right there _ , Steve just shrugged him off, laughing lowly as he closed the door behind him.

Leaving Bucky standing there, cursing to himself for failing to get Steve’s number, or even his last  _ name _ before he left.

“Didn't you say you were staying with Tony last night?” Clint asked, a towel wrapped around his hand. “Because I’m pretty sure that wasn’t Tony.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath as he scraped his hair back. “He’s just some guy I ran into; it’s nothing.”

Clint hummed, very obviously looking Bucky over. “Uh-huh. Sure, Buck.”

“Fuck you,” Bucky muttered, flipping him off.

It wasn’t the biggest campus, at least. Odds were at least somewhat decent that he’d run into Steve again, right?

* * *

Apparently the odds were  _ not _ good for Bucky running into Steve again.

All right, ostensibly it had only been three weeks. But still. That was nearly a month without seeing even a glimpse of the guy.

Bucky was maybe starting to get a little worried. But not worried enough to warrant Clint calling in his ‘not girlfriend’, and Bucky’s best friend from middle school, however.

“I haven’t seen you mope this much since you realized that you had been invited to be someone’s threesome unicorn last semester,” Natasha commented, nudging the second coffee cup across the table.

The memory made him shudder. Johnny had been cute. Sparkling brown eyes, fair as anything with pretty little diamond studs in his ears…

But Bucky had absolutely no interest in fucking Johnny’s girlfriend while Johnny fucked him.

“I’m not  _ moping _ ,” Bucky muttered, wincing as the chair scraped against the tile as he pulled it out. “I’m just… vaguely disappointed is all.”

She raised a perfectly plucked brow, somehow managing to look elegant in spite of the oversized hoodie that he was pretty sure belonged to Clint. “He  _ also _ mentioned you had non-sex related company. Did you try dating again and already manage to find another dud?”

“Because dating worked out so well for me last time.”

Why had he agreed to this meeting? He knew Nat was going to try and grill him and then aggressively try to fix whatever she perceived the problem to be.

He loved Natasha dearly. She was like another sister to him. But he was already grumpy from the 9 AM block class he’d just left, and his wasn’t helping his mood all that much.

Natasha appraised him over her own coffee, ankles crossed primly. “I also hear that you haven’t gone out with anyone since. Which we both know is unlike you.”

Was there something weird about his sex life that multiple people commented on it in the last few weeks? Sure, Brock was a tool that probably was just saying it out of spite, but still. It wasn’t like he was in and out of people’s beds every weekend.

“You calling me a slut, Natalia?” he asked, brow raised challengingly.

“If I call you a floozy, does that make it sound any better?”

He couldn’t help but snort, sinking into his chair. Well. As much as one could sink into the short-backed monstrosities this café had. “Ok, fine, I’ve been staying home the last few weeks. It’s not a big deal.”

Natasha’s appraisal softened as she shoved the sleeves up to her elbows. “My study group is meeting at that diner off campus on Friday for dinner. You should join us, expand your horizons.”

While it was framed as a request, Bucky had no doubts that he didn't really have much of another option here. He could say no, and then listen to her needle him about it up until Friday night.

So he sighed, pushed his hair out of his face, and asked, “What time?”

He could tell from the way she lit up that he was probably going to regret this.


	2. Chapter 2

Belatedly, Bucky realized he should have asked who all was part of Nat’s group before showing up. He was only vaguely aware of the circles she ran with, and was really only close to a handful of them. Read: Clint Barton who was definitely not part of the study group.

In order to prevent any awkward standing around, Bucky pointedly arrived nearly a half hour late just to be sure that Nat would have already arrived.

Which worked, at least. But it also meant he was a little blindsided to see Steve sitting there, bickering with Nat over… something.

While the booth was mostly full, it was clear that Natasha had deliberately left a spot for him beside her that he only felt slightly awkward sliding into, considering every eye seemed to flick to him when he got close enough.

The only consolation was that Steve seemed to light up, thankfully looking uninjured this time.

“And here I was, thinking that you were ditching me. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting, James,” Natasha intoned, sliding a menu over.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, surreptitiously glancing over the rest of the people gathered around. A second redhead that looked mildly familiar, another woman with dark hair, and a black man who seemed to be eyeing Bucky with an almost uncomfortable amount of intensity.

Nat, at least, seemed at ease, as did Steve. Everyone else looked mostly impassive, which he was going to take as a good sign.

“James, this is Pepper, Sam, Steve, and Maria. Everyone, this is James. He’s a bit of a hermit.” As she spoke, she indicated each person which was only marginally helpful in placing Pepper.

Not that she would recognize him, probably, even if they both spent a good amount of time around Tony.

Steve visibly forced himself not to scoff, which only got Sam to elbow him in the ribs with a muttering of how he needed to ‘be polite’.

“I’m not nearly as bad as she makes me out to be,” Bucky said, shooting her a look. “You just haven’t reevaluated your stance on me since we were twelve. Completely unfair, if you ask me.”

“You physically dropped me onto the floor when we were sixteen. I’m allowed to hold a grudge,” she returned primly, in sharp contrast to the way she bodily shoved at his shoulder.

“Do you just attract disasters, or what?” Sam asked. “I mean, first Clint--”

“All right, I’m at least not on the same level as Clint is. Have some respect.”

There was a bit of tittering among the group about _how bad_ Clint was, and if Bucky was on-par with that, then they’d definitely find out by the time dinner was over with.

Never mind the fact that it was almost nine at night already, but whatever. Bucky knew better than try to impose strict mealtimes in college. It just didn't work out well for anyone except maybe Nat.

“You’re Clint’s roommate then,” Steve said, returning to eyeing him speculatively. “Guess that explains the first aid kit, then. Seems less like overkill, knowing that.”

“You know what?” There was no heat to Bucky’s complaint, and given the sparkle in Steve’s eyes, he could tell.

The actual dinner itself went pretty smoothly with a lot of teasing coming from everyone, aimed at everyone. They were obviously a close-knit group, and Bucky’s association with Nat was all he needed to be included.

Though, Steve had taken to snarking Bucky in particular, and it apparently caught the notice of Natasha. Sam seemed to be more in the loop, considering he looked more exasperated than interested. As if he’d known this was going to happen.

Which didn't explain the Eye of Judgement he’d aimed at Bucky earlier, but there wasn’t anything to be done about that.

It was getting near midnight, and the group had already started to disperse until it was only himself, Steve, and Sam left. And Sam was clearly getting antsy to leave, given that he’d managed to maneuver himself over Steve and kept glancing at the door.

“Are you actually going to let me try and get your number before disappearing this time, or are you going to laugh at me as you leave again?” Bucky asked, comfortably sprawled over the now empty half of the booth.

The now-familiar sharp grin returned to Steve’s face, obviously self-satisfied.

And reminding him of Nat, which probably wasn’t something he should be looking for in a fling, but so long as it didn't become long term it should be fine.

“Give me your phone and I’ll even set it up for you.”

He was almost positive that Sam muttered ‘finally’ as Bucky fished his phone out of his pocket. At least he’d worn decent jeans that showed off his ass for this meeting, even if the rest of him looked like a minor hot mess. It only took a few taps to unlock the screen and get to the ‘New Contacts’ page before he passed it off to Steve.

Once again, he caught himself watching the sureness of Steve’s hands and the way the heavy rings caught the light, distracting him to the point where it took a few seconds longer than it should have to realize that he was passing the phone back to Bucky.

“We’ll speak soon,” he said, winking as he urged Sam out of the booth along with him.

Blessedly, that meant that as soon as they were out the door, Bucky could bury his face in his hands without anyone around to judge him for getting so flustered so easily.

He was practically a professional flirt; there was no reason for him to get so caught up over a near stranger he’d only met twice.

Though, the fact that his phone flashed, showing a message from Nat meant that someone was probably about to start judging or needling him about it.

Especially considering the message read: _So. Steve, huh?_

* * *

It had been about three days, and Bucky liked to think that they were at least somewhat getting to know each other, even if a lot of their conversations were mundane.

They’d taken to texting every day, even if sometimes it was just a brief check in to see that the other one was doing all right.

And, all right, there had been a few in-person meetings as well. Brief little things that were just more of a chase, more of a tease, that would usually result to Steve’s hands being _somewhere_ on him, even if only for a moment.

Bucky was pretty sure that, three days in, one of them was getting close to come in for the kill.

It was probably Steve, if their coffee meeting a few hours ago was any indication. A meeting that Steve was still teasing him about, four hours later.

_You can’t expect me to actually be friends with someone who puts half a pound of sugar in their coffee, Buck. You’re missing the whole point of it. SR_

What he was learning about Steve was that he really enjoyed finding weird, mundane things about Bucky to tease him over, while skating over some of the more obvious targets.

Which made the whole thing weirdly endearing, and Bucky was almost positive that having Steve berate his choice of coffee shouldn’t make his heart flutter, but here he was.

_I don’t want to hear it from the guy who willingly takes early morning classes. You’re already a weirdo; don’t drag me down just because you need more caffeine than is /actually/ healthy. JB_

He settled himself into his notes, at least trying to study for his upcoming quiz. Knowing full well that it wouldn’t go over well so long as Steve was texting him, which was somewhat a novelty for him. Usually he was pretty good at separating his work from his intended flings, but, well…

It wasn’t the first time, at least. That made him at least less apprehensive about the whole thing.

That said, he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with Steve’s answering text, taking a hard turn from their easy conversation about their brief coffee meeting between classes.

Well. Between Bucky’s classes, at least. Steve had apparently crammed most of his into the morning like some sort of heathen.

_Let me call you. SR_

That was… ominous. Who actually called people in this day and age? People up to no good, usually.

Well, no, Tony did phone calls because he was usually tinkering with something and hated voice-to-text programs. But Tony was notoriously eccentric. It was a whole shtick that may or may not be half-fabricated.

But he liked listening to Steve’s voice enough that he would put up with the whole ‘phone call’ thing, and there was only a little bit of trepidation as he pressed the ‘call’ button. Making sure Clint was focused on his own thing first as he listened to it ring.

Steve blessedly answered pretty quickly. “Figured you were going to turn me down.”

And, Christ, Bucky could just picture the borderline-smug grin on his face.

“Hey, you’re the one playing hard to get here. I’m sure it’s been made pretty obvious that I’m the easy one in this relationship,” he teased. Maybe half serious, but that wasn’t the point.

“Yeah, actually. That’s kind of why I wanted to call.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed, marking his page before closing the textbook entirely. “What, about me being easy, or you playing coy?”

“Both? I, uh. I kind of need to get some things out in the open if we’re actually going to, you know.”

Already that had alarm bells going off in Bucky’s head. While he liked to think that they were getting to the less-than-subtle innuendo part that usually preceded going to bed with someone, the whole ‘talking plainly’ thing wasn’t really his, well, _thing_.

And if there was something that needed to come up beforehand, that was a whole host of not good things.

Was it an STI? Was he just not interested? Did he have a partner?

God he hoped it wasn’t the last one. He didn't want another Johnny situation.

“Buck?”

He blinked a couple times, realizing he hadn’t _actually_ said anything. Definitely warranting the worry in Steve’s voice. “Yeah, no, sorry, I’m here. What, um. What is it?”

Steve’s sigh was audible, heavy. “I’m just going to be blunt here, all right? I’m a trans man. And I kind of figured you should know that before you try and get my pants off so you’re not, you know. Surprised by anything.”

That hadn’t even been a consideration for Bucky. Granted, he only had half an idea where to go with that, because while he didn't know what to say to that, he sure as hell knew a couple things that he absolutely was not supposed to say to that.

And immediately asking about Steve’s junk was something that was definitely off the table.

Saying that he’d never played around with ‘women’s anatomy’ was also very much off the table, and he was pretty sure he shouldn’t be picturing Steve and trying to figure out any obvious part of him that looked female either.

It was hard not to do that last one, and he hated himself a little for it.

Already, he could tell that the silence was going on for too long, but all he could really bring himself to say was, “I’m trying to think of a response that doesn’t make me sound like an insensitive idiot.”

Strained laughter bubbled over the phone. “Well, the good news is that’s a more promising start than a lot of people. Look, it’s not a big deal if you change your mind about me, or if you just want to try being friends instead. I just wanted to get it out of the way, and it’s not really something I wanted to deal with over text.”

That stung. Whether it was because of the assessment Steve was making about him, or the fact that it sounded like something Steve had happen to him routinely, he wasn’t sure.

“I… Ok, so I’m not changing my mind. I’m just going to put it out there that you might have to walk me through some things. Not right now,” he added hurriedly. “Just. In general. So I don’t mess up or make you uncomfortable.”

Hopefully that came across right. Because he _didn't_ want to get written off as that particular breed of asshole. He also didn't want to come across as coddling either, because he was pretty sure that Steve wouldn’t appreciate it if he suddenly started treating him with kid gloves.

“I mean, it’s pretty straight forward? I was kind of thinking that I wanted to top you, so none of that’s going to be an issue.” There was a pause for a beat. “Unless you don’t like bottoming? I guess that would have had to come up at some point anyways.”

Ok, so this was apparently just going to be a full on, non-erotic sex talk at… 7 PM. On a Monday. They hadn’t even discussed the possibility of fucking before now; just kind of teased at it from time to time.

“I usually bottom, so that’s more than fine with me.”

“Cute. Still, no pressure. I just wanted to get it out of the way.”

Bucky couldn’t quite stop himself from scoffing, pushing a hand through his hair. No pressure, right. “Clint’s staying over with Nat on Friday night, if you want to come by.”

Shit, had he really said that? Bucky had an unspoken, unacknowledged rule that he didn't bring people into his dorm.

Except, well, Steve had already been in his dorm. For very non-salacious reasons. And he knew Nat, and by extension Clint. It was probably not a big deal. Right?

He was almost positive he wasn’t imagining the relief in Steve’s voice when he answered, “Sounds like a date.”

And of course, that got an easy smile to spread over his lips in response. At least some of his anxieties abated, even though he was pretty sure a lot of them would come back full-force when they hung up on each other.

“Is this the part where I ask what you’re wearing, or is this the part where I tell you I need to go back to studying?” he asked, hoping to switch the conversation down a lighter path.

Judging by the deep laughter from Steve, he’d succeeded pretty easily. And that probably shouldn’t have made him feel as light and fluttery as it did.

* * *

As predicted, Bucky’s nerves started to get the better of him not even an hour before Steve said he would arrive. Tidying up as best he could without disrupting Clint’s weird orderly-disorder in the process.

It wasn’t--

Ok. He’d done a little research himself because he didn't want to be the guy asking five thousand questions. The problem was, a lot of the advice was ‘talk to your partner’, and that was the opposite of helpful here.

A lot of the information he _did_ find, he skimmed over. What testosterone did, surgery costs, affirmations… But he was pretty sure he got enough out of it that it should be fine. It wasn’t like they were dating, after all. A lot of what he’d read didn't really apply here.

Bucky was sitting on his freshly made bed, contemplating if condoms were actually necessary here, when he heard a knock at the door, sending his heart into his throat. It was for the best, really. He could _do_ just fine. It was the preparation and planning that made him borderline anxious.

He double checked himself in the mirror on the way to the door. Hair pulled back in a semi-neat bun, clothes that were fitted but soft enough to still look effortless… It was a pretty good look. And easy to remove which was actually the important part here.

Steve looked more relaxed than Bucky felt, a bag slung over his shoulder and a smile touching his lips. Hitching up into a smirk as he looked Bucky over.

Which was definitely good for his ego, considering he wasn’t even doing the ‘deliberately sexy’ thing right now.

“You look nice,” he said, taking Bucky’s unspoken invitation to come inside. Toeing his boots off by the door as Bucky flipped the lock.

After a moment’s contemplation, Steve hooked a finger in the collar of his shirt to drag him down.

Apparently Steve kissed about as sharp as he looked. Careful grazes of teeth as he coaxed Bucky’s mouth open, making it very clear which one of them was in control tonight.

The fact that he’d known beforehand didn't dampen the heat in his guts and flooding down his throat as he kissed back with just as much fervor.

Steve’s lips felt borderline chapped beneath his, regardless of how hot and wet his mouth was, leaving Bucky feel almost helpless to do anything but grasp at Steve’s shoulders. Hands fisting in the material of his shirt as well as the strap of the bag.

It felt entirely too soon before they parted, Steve pressing him back with a breathless sort of laugh. “You’re definitely going to be fun to take apart,” he said lowly. “Want to get on the bed while I get myself situated, or do you want to just kind of go with the flow and we’ll deal with it when it comes up?”

The sentiment felt a little clinical, even if it didn't come off that way for some reason. But he got the feeling it _would_ come off that way if he was alone. And he’d rather get his hands on Steve _now_.

“Come to bed with me.”

Given the way Steve seemed to light up, the feeling was probably mutual.

It felt like a lot of stumbling over the remaining pockets of mess before Steve was urging Bucky onto his bed, immediately sliding into his lap.

“Good?” he asked as Bucky’s hands automatically went to his hips. 

He seemed steady, and Bucky was struck with the thought that beds like this probably didn't feel overly cramped to him like they sometimes did to Bucky.

He could answer verbally. Probably _should_ , but it seemed easier to lean up to seal their lips together, humming contentedly when Steve’s hands wound into his hair.

They stayed there for a while, hands wandering over clothing and dipping beneath them just a touch. Just a tease, really. Steve was a solid, if miniscule, weight over his thighs.

Steve’s mouth wandered as well. Hot against his jaw as he tilted Bucky’s head by the grasp on his hair. Holding him in place and leaving Bucky helpless to do much more than squirm beneath him with his fingers tucked beneath the waistband of his jeans.

Heat surged through him, molten in his stomach as he gasped under the sharp hint of teeth over his pulse. “Steve…” It wasn’t quite a plea, but it was a damn close thing. And he was pretty damn sure Steve knew that, given the grin he could feel against the damp skin of his neck.

“Yeah?” he asked, tugging at the collar of his shirt to expose more skin. Sinking down lower to press his mouth at the hollow of his throat and obviously putting more pressure on Bucky’s rapidly hardening cock.

He couldn’t help but rock up against him, almost frustrated when he couldn’t quite get the leverage he wanted or the friction he practically needed at this point. “You going to hurry up, or are you going to keep taking your sweet time up there?”

Steve laughed softly, picking his head up.

Bucky had to blink a few times, trying not to stare at the obvious swollenness of his mouth or the darkness of his eyes. Barely a ring of bright blue visible, and _Christ_ that was heady.

“Hasn’t anyone told you that the journey’s half the fun? You can be patient for me, can’t you?”

A whimper rose in his throat, unbidden. This guy was really zeroing in on all the things that made Bucky tick. “There’s enjoying the journey, and then, fuck,” he hissed as Steve returned to the task of marking up every inch of Bucky’s neck. “And then there’s stalling out of the gate.”

“You’re free to take some initiative yourself, you know. No need to wait for me to do all the work for you.”

For some reason, that hadn’t quite occurred to Bucky. Which was especially odd, given his reputation for being a little bossy and a little pushy.

A reputation he damn well earned.

There was still the slight worrying that he might do something wrong here, but he got the feeling that Steve didn't want to be treated with kid gloves.

That would probably bother him more, honestly.

Steve hadn’t really looked up from his task, and Bucky was kind of amazed that he managed to keep such a coherent thought process going the entire time.

His hands changed course, sliding up over Steve’s ribs instead and pausing when his fingers came across scar tissue. Nothing nearly as dramatic as Bucky’s own scarring, but still a little bumpy beneath his fingers.

Bucky recovered from his slight faltering quickly, urging Steve off his neck just long enough to shove the pale green shirt over his head.

Steve didn't seem intent on giving Bucky much time to look him over, considering he was immediately shoved down against the mattress with Steve following right behind.

And, well. Bucky sure as hell wasn’t putting up a fight. The plates in his arm clinked together as his hands flexed against Steve’s now bare back as his hips rolled down against Bucky’s.

“God, you’re so responsive,” Steve murmured, his own palm snaking up the front of Bucky’s shirt. “Really know how to make a guy feel appreciated, huh?”

“And you’re so fucking mouthy,” he complained, albeit halfheartedly. He still let himself be pulled up just enough for Steve to shove his shirt off, overly aware of the pause that followed.

Steve was still straddling his hips, looking between his left shoulder and his face with wide eyes, his slim chest visibly heaving as he caught his breath.

In the silence, Bucky swallowed thickly and debated pulling his shirt back on as he averted his gaze to anything _but_ Steve. Probably, he should have mentioned the prosthesis. Except he’d never hidden it, and it had been on display every time they met.

Hell, Steve had _touched_ it more than once.

“Guess I’m the one trying not to sound like an idiot this time, huh?” Steve managed to say, fingers hovering over the worst of the scarring along his shoulder. “I just… I didn't think it went up this high.”

Nerves had apparently decided to wipe out a lot of the heat that had been pooling between his legs, given the fact that Bucky could pretty much feel himself wilting. “It’s not a big deal. I can…” He propped himself up, reaching for his recently discarded shirt. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done this sort of thing with a shirt on, after all.

God knew Brock had hated the sight of it.

Steve’s hand wrapped around his wrist before he could grasp it, effectively stilling him. “No, sorry, it’s… I’m just surprised. That’s all. You don’t have to cover up on my account.”

Bucky still couldn’t quite will himself to look up at Steve, even though he knew he was being a little ridiculous.

It wasn’t that he thought Steve would freak out at the sight of it. He’d figured it wouldn’t be a big deal, and that Steve was passingly aware of it, so it wasn’t something he needed to bring up. Apparently he’d miscalculated there.

“I sometimes forget I’m not as pretty with my shirt off as I used to be,” he joked weakly, at least letting go of the shirt.

At least that got Steve to snort, his hold loosening. “Pal, I wasn’t pretty with a shirt off to begin with. I’m in no position to get squeamish around scars. Besides, you’re still unbelievably gorgeous, so I don’t know what to tell you there.”

Finally, Bucky managed to meet Steve’s gaze, quickly looking over the newly bared skin in the process.

Vaguely he knew what the scars would look like. He hadn’t _asked_ if Steve had surgery on his chest, but he’d had an idea of what it would look like if he had.

They were long and dark, framing his narrow chest. Different from the shiny pink-white that decorated Bucky’s shoulder.

There was something a little self-conscious about the way Steve ducked his head even though he seemed to make a point not to hunch in on himself. “It’s still new. Supposedly they’ll fade over time, but we’ll see what happens. Still pretty numb too, so don’t waste a lot of time feeling me up there.”

A knot got tied up in Bucky’s throat. This wasn’t exactly what he’d signed up for. The whole vulnerability thing was what he actively worked to avoid, and yet…

He placed his hand just below the scarring, curling around the arc of his ribs. “You don’t have to tell me about it. God knows I don’t want to talk about mine either, so we can just…” As he spoke, he dragged his hand higher until he was cupping the back of Steve’s neck, gently urging him down.

The relief flashing across Steve’s face seemed to have a weight to it, and he thankfully didn't need any more prompting to press their mouths together. Gentler, almost tender in comparison to how he’d nearly attacked Bucky’s neck mere minutes ago.

Bucky let himself relax into it, the careful slide of their lips and tongues, the way Steve cradled his jaw…

An almost wounded sound left his lips when Steve pulled away, pulling a soft laugh from him.

“Better?” he asked just as lowly, thumbing at the lines of his throat. “I like to think I’m pretty good at recovering from mood-killers.”

Bucky had a hard time not smiling at that, lightly grazing his nails down Steve’s back. Vaguely noticing the curve to his spine.

He really hadn’t caught many breaks in life, apparently.

There was a couple seconds that Bucky took so he could take stock of where he was at. A little shifting indicated that he was roughly half-hard beneath Steve’s weight, and a lot of his anxieties about his arm had faded away.

The fact that Steve hadn’t made a comment on it aside from how high it went helped a lot in that arena.

“I’d have to agree with that assessment,” he said, sliding a finger through Steve’s belt loop. “Show me what else you’re good at.”

While Steve clicked his tongue, he couldn’t quite hide the amusement in his eyes. And he certainly didn't delay in doing just that.

He didn't avoid Bucky’s left arm, skating his fingertips along the plates on his way down to the button on Bucky’s pants.

For his part, Bucky had decided to take a note out of Steve’s book. Tasting the salt of his skin, dipping his tongue into the hollow of his collarbone. His breath hitching against Steve’s neck as he shifted up enough to drag the zipper down and slide a hand into his pants.

The warmth was muted with the cotton of Bucky’s briefs in the way, but that didn't stop his cock from jumping at the new pressure against it.

“Oh, that’d feel nice inside me…” Steve’s voice was lower, breathier as he practically kneaded at Bucky’s length with the heel of his hand.

Bucky’s breath broke off into a soft moan, legs falling as open as they could with Steve still hovering over him. The thought sending heat spill through his veins, pooling between his thighs. “Now you’re just deliberately being a tease,” Bucky muttered, quick to scrabble and return the favor.

He was less graceful than Steve had been, nearly ripping his jeans open only to pause at the coarse thatch of curls where he would usually find a cock.

That was probably something he was supposed to ask about first.

Slowly, he lifted his head from Steve’s shoulder, brows furrowed a bit.

Steve didn't even seem fazed, cheeks bright red but almost a challenging slant to his grin as his fingers wrapped firmly around Bucky’s length. Almost able to feel it pulse in his grasp.

And--yeah. All right. He could probably figure this out, so long as he didn't overthink it. He just had to trust Steve to tell him if he was doing something that _wasn’t_ working.

It was a little harder to get his hand in far enough to reach anything, but it was definitely worth the maneuvering for the sharp hiss of breath as Steve rocked against it.

He tried not to automatically catalogue all the ways it was different, knowing that would just make him more anxious over the whole thing. Instead, he focused on the feeling. The dampness beneath his fingers, the way Steve would tighten his grip, how shallow his breathing got the longer it went on.

The obvious heat in his guts, knowing he was making someone feel good and getting the same in return--

Abruptly, Steve pulled his hand away, jaw tight as he instead grasped the waist of both Bucky’s briefs and his pants, trying to tug them down without getting off of him.

Bucky had a hard time not laughing before carefully maneuvering Steve onto his back instead so he could shove the rest of his clothing off. “Let me…”

Beside him, he could hear Steve do the same only for him to obviously pause once he was clad only in a pair of dark grey briefs.

Before Bucky could ask, Steve rolled his eyes as he sat up. “I knew I should have dealt with this earlier,” he muttered, getting off the bed entirely to start rifling through his bag. “There’s always an awkward lull for this. It’s so much more seamless if I get it all in place beforehand, but I can’t exactly cross campus with a hard dick in my pants, you know?”

There was several seconds before it clicked exactly what Steve meant. Right as Steve gently tossed two black bags onto the bed, ostensibly containing the dick he was going to use to fuck him with.

“Should I…” Bucky’s hands hovered awkwardly, not entirely sure what the etiquette here was. And now he was back to the ‘condom/no condom’ debate, but at least they were out in the open so that Steve could ostensibly make that call.

A smile tugged at Steve’s lips, a little rueful but seemingly unbothered as his fingers deftly worked the ties of the bags, dumping out a vibrator and a cock onto Bucky’s bedspread. “You’re sweet, but it’s clumsy enough with one set of hands in the mix. Unless you want to start warming up that lube you graciously set out for us, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty.”

While Bucky made a point to scoff, that didn't stop a pleased blush from burning his cheeks and the tips of his ears. The fact that he was set off by something so small as being called ‘pretty’ probably said more about his sex life than it really ought to.

Then again, he mused as he reached for the tube, it was also saccharine enough that even _he_ didn't think about people as ‘pretty’ that often either.

From his periphery, he watched Steve’s hands as they rolled the shaft over the vibe before tucking them both into his briefs and continuing to fiddle from there. There was an aborted moan as a low buzz filled the room, though that didn't seem to stop Steve from snagging one of the condoms Bucky had set out and rolling it down the shaft as well.

In spite of the fact that he wasn’t overly bothered, he was pretty sure he understood why Steve referred to it as an awkward lull. It felt like it took a lot of work to get everything put together, and Bucky wasn’t sure what to do with himself during that time.

Still, it didn't take long before Steve was nudging his knees apart and taking the tube out of his hand, quickly checking the label before flipping the cap open. “You want it like this, or do you want to be on your front?”

Bucky blinked up at him, feet still on the floor and just… just a little too focused on the sight above him. There was a definite ease that Steve carried himself with that Bucky more than appreciated. And something about that made him look taller than he really was.

“Buck?” Steve prompted.

Right, shit. Steve asked him a question. “Like this,” he said, maneuvering until he was actually _on_ the bed instead of just perching on the edge of it. “I… I want to see you.”

Steve hummed low, smiling as he leaned down to kiss him.

It was just enough of a distraction that he didn't really notice what Steve’s hands were doing until he felt the familiar chill of lube between his cheeks.

His head fell back with a soft moan, pressing his hips up as those deft fingers circled his rim. And Steve apparently was determined to take his damn time before actually sliding into him, and he wasn’t sure why that came as a surprise.

The mattress dipped, the heat radiating against his thighs indicating that Steve had joined him. His legs fell open accordingly, even as he tried to keep his hips arched up enough to make it easier on both of them.

The pressure finally gave, spreading Bucky open just a bit around a finger. Realistically, it wasn’t much. Steve’s hands were definitely a little bigger than his delicate wrists would indicate, but his fingers were still long and thin.

That didn't stop him from feeling it just as strongly.

“Hey,” Steve chided, cupping Bucky’s cheek. “C’mon, open your eyes. Thought you wanted to see me.”

With a little effort, Bucky picked up his head to look at him. And, as if he’d been waiting specifically for that, Steve chose that moment to slink down his body and take the head of Bucky’s cock into his mouth.

Bucky had to fight to not push up into that hot mouth, especially in combination with the way Steve was working him open steadily.

He couldn’t stop himself from crying out loud enough that he belatedly worried about whoever had the rooms next to his.

At least he got an answering moan out of Steve, judging by the vibrations that were quick to race up his spine, really just making Bucky bite back a whimper.

Slowly, the stretch increased as Steve pressed a second finger, a third, a fourth into him. Pausing only long enough to rewet his fingers before pressing all the way in until the heel of his hand was pressed snugly beneath his balls.

It didn't hurt in the slightest. Not even a slight burn that Bucky was used to, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of the pace Steve was keeping, or if it was because of the sheer amount of lube that was dripping between his cheeks and almost definitely making a mess of the sheets beneath him.

Pleasure lit up almost every single nerve ending, making Bucky writhe in jerky, aborted motions as he tried to push down on Steve’s hand without losing the mouth that was still fastened to his cock. Never taking in more than an inch or two, but still enough to make him dizzy.

And in an instant, it was over. The wet heat around his cock and the fingers holding him open disappearing at the same moment and drawing a sort of wounded sound out of Bucky’s throat as he gasped for breath.

“You’re fine,” Steve insisted, voice rough as he crowded Bucky’s thighs up around his chest. “You’re just fine sweetheart, breathe slow for me.”

Again, he was struck with just how imposing Steve seemed. How much bigger he looked, compared to his actual stature.

“Coddling, really?” Bucky managed to ask, even as he cradled Steve’s hips with his knees. Trying to pull him in.

Steve clicked his tongue, reaching between them and lining up so that Bucky could feel the blunt head of the cock against his hole. “Here I am, saying something nice, and you want to brush it off? Terrible.”

“Gorgeous, if I was nice I might be able to keep a man longer than a couple hours.”

“Pretty sure if you _wanted_ to keep a man, you’d manage just fine.”

Bucky shrugged, ankles hooking around the back of Steve’s thighs. There was a chance Steve was right, but he didn't actually care about any of that right now. “Still got you here, didn't I?”

A hint of indulgence showed through, even as he pushed Bucky’s legs up higher, until they were more around Steve’s chest. “You just happen to be my type, is all. I’ve got a thing for sharp-tongued brunettes.”

Before Bucky could start cooing about how cute that was, how sweet, Steve cut him off by pressing his hips forward. Anything Bucky might have been preparing to say cut off by the sudden, blunt stretch of Steve slowly fucking into him. Not stopping until he could feel the heat of Steve’s skin radiating against his ass and the faint buzzing of the vibrator against his rim.

It was a lot. Bucky wasn’t sure if he could say anything if he tried, leaving him staring, wide eyed and open mouthed as his brain tried to stop short-circuiting long enough to process it all.

And that apparently got Steve so goddamn smug.

“Oh honey,” he crooned, grinding in right up against Bucky’s prostate. “I knew this’d be a good look on you.”

While part of Bucky wanted to snark back, the vast majority of him preened under the saccharine praise. His back arching as he tried to push down further on the length inside him. “God you’re such an asshole. Can’t believe I’m into that.”

Granted. It wasn’t a surprise. He didn't even need to look too far down his string of flings to pick up on that particular pattern.

The slow slide out was contrasted with the quick push right back in, knocking the breath out of him. “If you can still talk, then I’m apparently not doing this right, huh?”

He couldn’t help the soft, breathless laugh as he let his head fall back. “Yeah, Steve. Come on and give it to me like you know you want to.” And, of course, his voice had to be just as breathy as his laugh had been.

Thankfully, it didn't take more prompting than that, even though Steve muttered ‘unbelievable’ before actually getting to work.

And, Jesus Christ did Steve fail to disappoint.

There was a fluidity to his movements, smooth strokes in and out, testing out subtle angles until sparks lit up Bucky’s spine and then doubling down right there.

It was more than a little dizzying in the best possible way. The steady ache in his hips and thighs from how tense Bucky was holding himself, the push-pull of his ass as it clung to Steve’s cock, the steady throb of his _own_ cock…

Sharp little moans kept getting pushed out with every thrust, Bucky’s nails digging into Steve’s shoulder while the metal fingers laced tightly into his pillowcase. HIs eyes screwed tightly shut, focusing on the feeling of it all and not letting anything else distract him from it.

So when Steve wrapped a hand around his length, it caught him off guard. Jolting, eyes flying open as he tried to curl up and around that feeling.

“There you go; that’s it,” Steve murmured. At some point, he’d buried himself in Bucky’s shoulder, barely tall enough to reach. It was obvious he was intent on sucking as many dark bruises into Bucky’s skin as possible, barely coming up for air at times.

All Bucky could bring himself to do was cling tighter, overly aware of the precum that was slicking up Steve’s hand and making the slide of it over his cock as smooth as the rock of his hips. He couldn’t even find it in himself to snark back, barely able to manage hitching little breaths as Steve’s hand worked him over with the same exact rhythm as his fucking.

There was a very good chance that Steve was about as well-practiced in sex as Bucky was.

Heat built up steadily, making Bucky cling tighter with each and every thrust until he couldn’t tell which way was up anymore. It both felt like forever and too soon before Bucky was cumming with a gasp, painting his chest and Steve’s hand with his release as he continued to get fucked through the aftershocks. Wringing absolutely everything out of him until Steve stopped with a shudder himself, very nearly collapsing on top of him.

Bucky was pretty sure that he didn't want to move for the rest of the night, whining throatily when Steve pulled out and reached back down into his briefs.

“Hold on,” he said, planting a soft kiss to Bucky’s chest and pushing all the way back in again.

The faint vibrations had stopped, which was almost a relief to his oversensitive rim.

When he finally got his breath back, the first thing Bucky could think to ask is, “How many rounds do you think you can go with that thing?”

Something entirely different in him lit up at Steve’s laughter, and for some reason _that_ was the thing he wanted more of in that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello again <3 I'm really just here to thank you all for reading, and to mention that I tend to default to neutral/masc language when referring to Steve's anatomy, simply because that's what I do for myself. That's not something that's really prevalent in this particular chapter, but it is something that comes up later on


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, quick note that this is where the 'switching' tag comes in. There's PIV sex in this chapter, so if that makes you uncomfortable feel free to skip the first section of this chapter <3 Also there's a little bit of genital discussion, but nothing really in-depth

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure how it became a thing.

Well. ‘A thing’ probably wasn’t the right way to put it, but Bucky didn't really know what else to call it, so that was just going to be his working title for this.

Usually he was pretty good at having his one night stands last only, well, one night and  _ maybe  _ the next morning. But somehow he found himself in bed with Steve another two times over the last month.

Well. It was three times, now.

“You’re  _ sure _ he’s not coming back tonight?” Bucky asked, surprised he could even get a coherent sentence out with the way Steve was rutting against him.

“You weren’t nearly this anxious last time,” Steve said, disconnecting his mouth from the underside of Bucky’s jaw.

His neck was definitely going to be a mess of hickeys, just like it was every time they had done this.

“Last time I knew he was in class with a guaranteed end time.” Just to make it clear he wasn’t asking Steve to stop or slow down, he grasped at Steve’s ass and dragged him forward, muffling a groan in Steve’s shoulder.

“If Riley’s around, I’ll be lucky to see him for five minutes the entire weekend. They’re sickening, Buck. Never seen a bigger pair of lovestruck saps in my life.”

Bucky laughed, though it broke off into a short gasp when Steve brought his hand around Bucky’s barely clothed cock.

And of course, of  _ course _ that just got Steve to grin down at him. Smug as anything and so pleased at getting any sort of reaction out of Bucky.

“Let’s try something different,” Steve insisted, still vaguely rocking his hips over one of Bucky’s thighs.

He could almost feel the dampness there against his bare skin. Their jeans had long-since been discarded somewhere in the dorm, but there was still the thin layers of their underwear in the way.

“Buck,” he prompted, grasp tightening around his cock.

If he was trying to get Bucky to pay better attention than he currently was, this was probably the wrong way to go about doing it considering that his train of thought was almost instantly lost again. “Something different,” he repeated after several seconds. “What… What kind of different are you thinking?”

Steve hummed lowly, snaking his hand up the undershirt Bucky had managed to keep on. Not that he thought that would last very long. “I’m thinking you should do the fucking this time. Save us the hassle of me putting a different dick on.”

Any sort of haze that had managed to settle over him snapped a little abruptly at the thought, though he wasn’t quite sure why it caught him as off-guard as it did.

After all, he very specifically remembered Steve commenting how it’d feel good to have Bucky inside him the first time he was properly feeling him up.

Whatever trepidation Bucky was feeling apparently came through, given that Steve withdrew his hands so he could sit back and look at him properly. “If you kind of exclusively bottom, that’s fine. Just figured we could shake it up a little bit, is all.”

“I… It’s a general preference, I just… figured you exclusively topped, is all.”

“It’s a general preference,” Steve mimicked. In spite of the small smile, there was a bit of tension in his brow. As if he was worrying over what Bucky said, which didn't actually make a lot of sense to him. “Is this about the trans thing, or do I just seem like a stone top?”

And there it was, the thing Bucky didn't actively want to talk about.

Given the fact that Steve hadn’t brought it up since first telling Bucky about it, he assumed Steve wasn’t keen on talking about it either.

This was why Bucky didn't like relationships. Too much talking and sorting things out. Sex was easy, and that’s all Bucky was really looking for right now. And if his heart clenched up a bit whenever Steve grinned at him, or laughed, well. That was no one’s business but his own.

“I didn't know if you were comfortable with it or not,” he admitted. “For various reasons. I’ve been with some shorter guys who get huffy at the implication that they should be bottoming, so it’s a little bit of that, too.”

It was pretty obvious that Steve didn't entirely believe him, but at least he didn't try to argue with him about it. “The way I’m looking at it, you’re not less of a man for taking up the ass. So shouldn’t that apply to me, too? Or, y’know. Whatever I decide I want to take it up.”

Bucky was pretty sure them just sitting awkwardly without touching each other was just going to make it feel even  _ more _ awkward. So he fit a hand over Steve’s hip, gently drawing him back in. “All right. Just tell me how you want it, and that’s how we’ll do it.”

Steve seemed to assess him carefully before allowing Bucky to bring him closer. Hopefully that meant that whatever he saw in Bucky met whatever standards he had for this kind of thing. His hands wound in Bucky’s hair, tilting his head back. “You’ve got good hips, Buck. I just want to see if they’re as good at giving as they are at taking. But you don’t gotta just on my account, y’know. If you actually  _ are _ exclusively a bottom, that’s fine. A little boring, but fine.”

Bucky clicked his tongue, sliding his hands beneath Steve’s ass so he could flip them over. Neatly depositing Steve onto the bed and fitting himself between his thighs. “I’m pretty sure I’m not nice enough to do something like that just for your sake.”

Even though, really, he probably was. But Steve had no way of knowing that, so that was what he was going to go with.

There was something weirdly delighted in Steve’s eyes as he stretched out on the mattress. “Aw honey, we both know that’s not true. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t at least a little wrapped around my finger.”

All right, apparently he  _ did  _ wear his heart on his sleeve a little bit. Either that or he’d been talking to Natasha, which was probably the worse option.

“God you’re awful,” Bucky muttered. That didn't stop him from kissing down Steve’s chest, pausing beneath the arc of his ribs when Steve gasped softly and arched up into the touch. “Here I am, obliging you, and you have to go and call me out like that? Unbelievable.”

He could feel Steve’s laughter even as he tugged his briefs off entirely. “Nat’s right, you’re really just a grumpy kitten aren’t you? It’s cute on you.” He spoke as casual as anything, regardless of the fact that he was laid out naked, legs parted and actually giving Bucky a chance to look at him in his entirety.

Even though Bucky only had half-hearted expectations of what he’d see, it was still enough to make him pause. The coarse thatch of dark blond curls was neatly trimmed, several shades darker than the more golden strands on his head. The way his legs were spread showed the bare hint of his opening along with… Well. He wasn’t sure how Steve referred to it, so it was probably safer to just  _ not _ .

In spite of the prolonged pause, Steve didn't seem quite as guarded as he had earlier. Letting Bucky admire his fill while keeping at least relatively still in the process. “You gonna do something about it, or am I going to have to take care of myself?”

Yeah, Steve was probably the worst. Bucky was unfairly smitten by it. “You sure you don’t wanna be on top? Because you don’t seem satisfied with the pace I’m going at.”

“Hm, that’s a thought. You just look so pretty under me. But I want to see if you can put in the work yourself, you know? See if you’d be a good fit for my prolonged stress relief.”

“Oh, is  _ that _ what I am?” Granted, Bucky couldn’t deny that it wasn’t at least a little mutual. And Steve was a good fit for him so far, which really just made Bucky want to one-up him.

There was that familiar sharpness to his grin as he hooked a leg around Bucky’s hip, drawing him in. “If you fuck me well enough, it is.”

And, well, that was a challenge Bucky wasn’t about to turn down. He reached over to rifle through Steve’s nightstand for lube and condoms, trying to not pay attention to anything else that was in there. Some little bags, books, nothing really important right now.

“Where…?” He trailed off, setting both things next to Steve’s hips as he resettled himself in the cradle of them. Unsure how to ask in a way that wouldn’t be using the wrong terms, because god forbid he fuck this up right out of the gate.

There was something almost soft about Steve’s face, in spite of the sharp angles of his cheeks and jaw. Not quite indulgent, but closer to understanding and appreciation. “Think your delicate sensibilities can handle fucking my front hole, or would you be more comfortable in my ass?”

Bucky couldn’t quite stop himself from scoffing. “Delicate sensibilities? I’m gay, Rogers, not some sort of wilting flower. I think we’ve made it at least decently clear that I’m not squeamish with you.”

That got Steve to relax a bit, making Bucky realize the tension he had apparently been holding regardless of how at ease he seemed.

Maybe Steve actually  _ was _ nervous about this and didn't want Bucky to know about it. The thought shouldn’t have been as reassuring as it was, but it felt a little better to know he wasn’t the only one a little on edge about this.

Once again, Bucky started kissing down his chest, feeling Steve go more and more pliant beneath his lips until he was tucked into the crease between his thigh and hip.

Above him, Steve was cursing under his breath, a dark flush spreading all the way down his chest, which was a hell of a sight that got Bucky throbbing.

“Can I…?”

Steve picked up his head enough to look down at him, blue eyes hazy but still managing to pierce him. “You gonna be able to complete a sentence while you’re down there, or are you just going to keep trailing off?”

Heat spilled across his cheeks and down his throat, definitely not helping his situation. “Mind if I eat you out, or would you rather I get right to work?”

There was at least a little satisfaction in the way he could hear Steve’s throat click as he swallowed. The way his breathing hitched and his knees fell further open. “I wanna say yes, but this’ll be over far too soon if I do, so. Next time. If you’re good.”

If you’re good. For some reason,  _ that’s _ what decided to rattle around in his head, the notion that he’d get rewarded, even if said reward was actually just him servicing Steve. For some reason, that didn't matter to him right now.

Apparently some of that showed on his face, given the soft laughter he could hear above him. “God, you’re just a little easy for me, huh?”

“I’m pretty sure a lot of people will attest that I’m a little easy in general,” he countered, reaching for the lube that Steve had set on the bed. He wasn’t sure if he’d actually need it, but he’d rather not accidentally hurt Steve in case it was necessary.

He popped the top, pouring the clear liquid over his fingers. It was a lot thinner than the stuff Bucky usually used, but whatever. Not a big deal.

While he didn't top often, he would say he was fairly used to fingering. Mostly because he’d been doing it to himself for years. The process seemed to be exactly the same in regards to Steve. Just. A little quicker, maybe. Definitely wetter, but there was the same slick heat clinging to his fingers.

Bucky’s mouth was occupied with sucking bruises into Steve’s hips and thighs, the nails of his other hand almost digging into Steve’s leg so he wouldn’t reach down to take himself in hand. 

He wouldn’t have described Steve as ‘loud’ before. Talkative as fuck, but he wasn’t a screamer.

Apparently that changed when he was on the receiving end of things.

Soft, breathy moans when Bucky pressed in deep, something low and almost gravelly when Bucky’d spread his fingers or add another.

There was a particularly smooth bump in front, and whenever Bucky would press against it, it would drag something almost keening out of Steve.

He may or may not have played with it more than he strictly needed to.

Each sound, each shallow jerk of Steve’s hips just got his blood burning, unable to look away for even a second and barely noticing he’d managed to stretch Steve’s hole out around three fingers. More than probably necessary, but he hadn’t said anything to get Bucky to hurry up anymore. Too focused on the feeling, by the looks of it.

It was beautiful, really. Enough to get Bucky questioning his own preference for bottoming, if this was the alternative.

Steve flat-out whined when Bucky pulled his fingers out.

“You’re all right,” he soothed, wiping the slickness away on his own bare thigh before reaching for the condom.

“That’s so much more patronizing from this end of it.” He sounded breathless, a little pitchy, and he still hadn’t picked his head up from where he’d thrown it back against the pillows. The long line of his throat on full display, and Bucky really,  _ really _ just wanted to mark up that thin creamy skin.

“We both know you’re going to keep doing it to me anyways,” Bucky rationalized, lining himself up.

Even through the thin latex, he could feel the heat radiating off of Steve. The flexing of his hole, trying to drag Bucky in and that… fuck, that was just heady as anything. That alone was enough to make him want.

“Jesus, come  _ on _ ,” Steve complained, looping an ankle around Bucky’s hip and yanking him closer as best he could.

“You’re so pushy. I should just make you wait.” There was no real heat behind the threat, and he was pretty sure they both knew it.

Still, that didn't stop him from winding his free hand into Steve’s hair, carefully to make sure nothing got caught in the delicate plates, tugging his head to the side before pressing his mouth to Steve’s throat. Not quite marking him up, but there would be time for that later.

It was partly a distraction, for both of them, while Bucky pushed in. It kept Steve from focusing on any burn from the stretch, and kept Bucky’s mind just occupied enough that he didn't go completely blank at how  _ tight-hot-wet _ it was to be buried in him.

His plan maybe worked for one of them.

Bucky gasped sharply into Steve’s neck, losing focus maybe halfway through the slide in. God, it was… Probably not that different from the other times he topped, but he swore the walls around him felt a little softer. Less tense, maybe.

“Buck,” Steve nearly whispered, hands fisting in his hair.

A sharp tremor ran down Bucky’s spine as he pressed his mouth damply over Steve’s rapid pulse. There was something almost worshipful in Steve’s tone and he didn't know what to do with that combined with the overwhelming feeling of being inside him.

“I got you,” he said belatedly, pressing the words into his skin.

Finally, finally, Bucky was entirely seated in him. Surrounded by him, and barely able to focus on anything except that and the rapid pulse against his lips.

He stayed there, waiting until Steve grumbled at him to ‘get on with it’ before pulling out barely a couple inches and sliding right back in. Knocking a soft gasp out of Steve.

Bucky liked to think that bottoming as much as he did gave him a good insight on what  _ not _ to do. He started slow, not slamming in all in one go, but building up to it instead. A steady increase that had him huffing out soft groans, and was punching increasingly louder ones out of Steve.

That alone made him dizzy, so pleased to be giving it to Steve and giving it to him  _ right _ .

He let Steve guide him into sharp kisses that he half worried might draw blood with the careless way Steve seemed to set his teeth into Bucky’s lips. Giving in to his wordless urging for Bucky to pick up the pace until the bed seemed to move precariously along with them.

It wasn’t near enough to get Bucky to consider stopping.

They were breathing the same air more than kissing, muffling sounds between their lips, and he barely noticed where Steve started guiding his hand until it was just above his own cock. Steve pressing his fingers right over his.

“Just a smaller version of what you’ve got,” Steve mumbled between kisses. Quickly abandoning Bucky’s hand so that he could cup his face instead.

He didn't even have the attention span to think that through right now. A small blessing, really, because he just took it between two of his fingers and set to stroking it like he would his own. Though, with Steve, he could press the thumb nice and tight over the head as he did so.

_ That _ brought the low, throatier groans Bucky was used to hearing out of Steve, spurring both his hips and hands on faster, harder, needing to make sure that Steve was brought over the edge before Bucky tumbled himself.

It was wishful thinking, but he was at least dazedly smug that he managed to bring Steve off just a few seconds after Bucky snapped.

Everything felt too sensitive, too bright, and Bucky found himself gasping for breath in Steve’s shoulder while Steve seemed to be doing the same. The aftershocks left him reeling as he continued to thrust a little haphazardly until all but collapsing on top of Steve. Barely aware enough to remember to keep the bulk of his weight off of him.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours, but was probably closer to ten minutes before Steve spoke.

“Yeah, I’m definitely keeping you around for stress relief.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh, even as he winced when he pulled out. At least there wasn’t a mess to clean up, outside of the condom.

The two of them laid there until Bucky’s skin stopped tingling and Steve’s breath had completely evened out.

That meant it was probably time for Bucky to head out, especially since he was still worried that Steve’s roommate might walk in on them. With a sigh, he hauled himself out of bed to deal with the condom before starting the search for his clothes.

“I want pancakes, but I don’t want to move,” Steve said plaintively. He still hadn’t even moved, still splayed over the mattress even as Bucky started to halfheartedly pull himself together again to go back to his dorm for the night.

“Stevie, there’s a diner not even five minutes off campus.”

Steve groaned theatrically, and Bucky had a hard time not laughing at him.

Honestly, he didn't really  _ try  _ not laughing at him. But it was in an endeared way, which was probably less rude.

Bucky continued picking up his discarded things, wiggling his jeans over his hips from where they’d been discarded in the kitchenette of all places.

By the time he got the buttons done up properly, Steve decided to actually use words again. “If you make me pancakes, I’ll try to blow you before you leave.”

He scoffed, trying to figure out where he left his lavender Henley. “Pal, I’d love to, but I don’t think I could get it up right now even if you were sucking me off.”

“Buck…” His name was drawn out on a long whine, and Bucky made the mistake of looking over at him.

He’d gotten onto his stomach at some point, head pillowed on his folded arms as he kept those baby blues firmly trained on Bucky.

It was almost definitely cheating.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before using the tie around his wrist to fasten it in a loose ponytail. “Yeah, all right, fine. You have a hot plate hidden around here, or what am I working with?”

The way Steve lit up made it almost more worth it than the pancakes themselves.

Bucky was pretty comfortable in kitchens of various sizes, at least. When he wasn’t on campus he was sharing an apartment with five other people, so cramped conditions? Pretty standard for him.

By the time he was plating things up on mismatched, brightly colored dishes, Steve had moved to the point where he was upright in bed with a sheet wrapped around his waist.

Which of course meant that it was time for more slightly awkward conversations.

“What do you want me to call…” He gestured vaguely at Steve with a terra cotta plate before handing it off to Steve. No butter, no syrup, because apparently Steve was a goddamn heathen.

“Yeah, you’re gonna have to be a lot more specific than that.”

Bucky leveled a look at him, settling on the floor and leaning against the bed. “I mean what you’ve got below the belt, Rogers.”

“What, did public sex education fail you completely?”

He sighed, head tipping back. He definitely could pick up the teasing tone in Steve’s voice, but still. It was a little frustrating. “Stevie, I got three younger sisters. I’m well aware of what’s going on down there. I’m asking what you specifically want me to call it.”

“Jesus, three sisters?” Steve clicked his tongue before continuing. “It’s my dick and my front hole. I’m pretty sure you know which is which, but if you need me to guide you through it…”

All right, that was easy. Probably wouldn’t come up again, but at least he’d know in case it did. “I’m pretty sure I got a lot of hands on experience today, but I appreciate the offer,” he deadpanned.

Still, it was hard not to smile at the snort of laughter.

“All right, guess that means next time I want to make you do all the work I’ll just make you ride me. You’ve got a lot of thrusting power; I bet you can handle it.”

“Steve, honey, you’re really testing my resolve here.”

“Oh, I’m  _ honey _ now, am I?”

Bucky tipped his head back onto the mattress to look up at Steve. Holding a fucking bare pancake in his hands and eating it just like that.

Steve was a fucking gremlin.

“Yeah.  _ Honey _ .”

That got Steve to grin, sharp teeth and sharp eyes as he took another bite. “That’s real cute, Buck. Maybe we should see if you can keep up those pet names while I fuck you through another two orgasms before letting you leave.”

It was definitely an empty threat. That didn't stop Bucky from eyeing him up speculatively anyways.

* * *

Apparently the ‘thing’ now meant that Steve would come over to Bucky’s dorm even if sex wasn’t on the table.

He couldn’t really remember which one of them had made the suggestion, or why, but Steve was now in Bucky’s bed, fully clothed, and they were watching some film for one of Steve’s classes.

And Steve was aggressively trying to be the big spoon in spite of him being ridiculously smaller than Bucky. Except every time he said it might be easier for him to see the screen if he was in  _ front _ of Bucky, he just got grumbled at, and at this point Bucky figured he just had to let it be.

The door clicked open, and Bucky barely paid it any mind, much more focused on trying to keep up with the subtitles of whatever it was Steve had needed to watch, as well as trying to be as unobtrusive to Steve’s line of vision as he possibly could.

“Uh… You guys are clothed under that blanket, right?” Clint asked.

Bucky pointedly rolled his eyes at him, settling further down on the bed. Maybe if he was sideways, that would make this easier. “It’s four o’clock on a Thursday, Clint. I’m not fucking every day of the week, you know.”

“I fucked you at three in the afternoon on a Monday once, so you might wanna rethink that statement.”

He could practically feel Clint wincing from the doorway, so that was fun. “We’re not fucking. Feel free to come in and all that.”

There was definitely a tentativeness to the way Clint moved that was far different from the usual casual brashness. If it had been this easy to get Clint to be careful, Bucky maybe would have done this a long time ago.

“So you two are just kinda… Here, doing the Netflix and Chill without the chill part?”

“Yep.” Bucky made sure to pop the ‘p’ as he rolled onto his side, displacing Steve a bit.

He resettled himself rather quickly, one leg loosely draped over Bucky’s and propping his chin on his chest. “You’re still the little spoon. This doesn’t change anything.”

Bucky scoffed, reaching up to mess up Steve’s hair. “Obviously. Don’t worry, your reputation as an aggressive power top is safe here.”

Clint didn't seem to know what to say, but at least he didn't linger awkwardly. Instead he just settle on the bed across from them, shot them a pointed, dubious look, before pulling out his hearing aids with a wince and rifling through his bag for his own homework.

If nothing else, Clint was definitely an easy person to live with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, and generally welcome to the newcomers <3 Who else is loving the new thing on Facebook where people are creating pages for trans/generally queer Marvel characters? I ended up creating one myself and I'm just. So happy it's becoming a more popular thing
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading; I am loving the comments and kudos I'm getting here. I feed on validation


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, just here to report a brief CW for doctors and needles in the second section of this chapter <3

Steve was apparently just one of those assholes who made phone calls.

It wouldn’t have been a problem if it hadn’t been eight in the morning on one of Bucky’s off days.

It also wouldn’t have been a problem if Bucky didn't keep his phone under his pillow while he slept, but he was going to blame it all on Steve anyways.

Bucky could barely keep his eyes open long enough to register it  _ was  _ Steve calling before blearily fumbling to answer.

“If this isn’t important, I’m hanging up immediately,” he said, words definitely slurring together. It was hard not to wince at that, honestly.

“Are you busy around 11 today?” Steve asked, thankfully getting at least somewhat to the point.

Bucky rolled onto his back, barely able to see the popcorn-textured ceiling above him. At least it was light enough that he wasn’t completely blind, even if it was definitely absurdly early to be receiving phone calls. “No? I mean, I might be napping so I’d rather this not be a booty call.”

Granted, Steve usually  _ texted _ about those. But Bucky was well aware that he wasn’t even close to firing on all cylinders right now, so anything seemed possible.

“I have a doctor’s appointment and I don’t want to go by myself. And Sam’s got a lecture, or I’d ask him. I can drive and all that.”

Oh. It was something actually serious, in that case. No wonder Steve had opted to call out of the blue at this hour. He scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing through his nose. “Yeah, all right. Am I going to have to do anything, or will I just kinda be sitting there with you?”

“I mostly just need someone around during the blood draw. I get kind of shaky afterwards, you know? And normally I’d just bring Sam, but.”

“But he’s busy, yeah.” Bucky paused for a moment. It wouldn’t really be a big deal for him. God knew that he’d taken over at least part of the shuffling of his sisters around when he was seventeen. He didn't know why he was even hesitating. “Whatever you need, Stevie. I don’t mind coming with, but I expect something with either sugar, caffeine, or both as compensation.”

Steve’s laugh bubbled over the phone, warming something in Bucky’s chest. “I’ll buy you one of those coffee abominations you love so much; don’t worry.”

“You know me so well,” Bucky teased. “Ok. I’m gonna… go back to sleep for a bit? Just let me know when and where you want me, and I’ll be there.”

Steve hummed lowly, a tinge of relief palpable even in that one soft noise. “I’ll pick you up around 11. Just be presentable, all right?”

“Yeah, all right. I’ll be in decent clothes and everything.”

“Good, because I don’t have time for you to be distracting me with those skin tight pants of yours. I can’t be jumping you when we have places to be.”

Bucky was laughing even as they said their goodbyes and hung up. Even though he was out like a light the second he finished setting his alarm.

* * *

Steve seemed pretty calm the entire trip. Apparently his doctor’s office was over an hour away, which seemed pretty far by Bucky’s standards.

The waiting room itself was… Well, bright was a good word for it. Lime green chairs dotted the cramped space, and an aggressive yellow covered the bottom half of each wall.

Bucky would be more inclined to refer to it as ‘atrocious’, but no one asked him so he didn't say as much.

It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes before a nurse was calling Steve back to one of the rooms, and Bucky dutifully followed along when Steve shot him a pointed look.

It was weird. The whole thing was a little weird, but what else was he supposed to do when Steve had asked him to come with to begin with? Bucky was well aware that he wasn’t about to say ‘no’ to him, after all.

There was the usual bullshit of getting Steve weighed and checking his heart rate and such--Bucky tried not to hear the nurse comment on how Steve’s blood pressure was still a little too high--before they were left alone to wait for the doctor to come in.

“Sorry if this is kinda boring,” Steve said softly, as if there were people around to hear them.

Maybe the walls here were thin enough that it was actually a concern. He didn't know. Either way, Bucky shrugged as he sank down further against the aggressively orange plastic chair. “It’s really not a big deal, Stevie. Besides, I wasn’t doing anything else with my day. May as well spend it with you.”

There was something warm in Steve’s eyes. The word ‘besotted’ came to mind for some reason, which scared the hell out of Bucky. He opened his mouth to speak, only to snap it shut when there was an obvious knock at the door.

Bucky was more than a little relieved that the arrival of the doctor cut off whatever it was Steve was going to say. And then, of course, he felt guilty over being relieved about that. But that wasn’t something he wanted to examine right now while he was supposed to be Steve’s support.

The doctor was older than Bucky expected, but there was something no-nonsense about him that Bucky could appreciate. The greying hair with round glasses made him look professional, making him  _ look _ like a doctor even if he ignored the white lab coat and stethoscope slung around his neck.

“Steven,” he greeted, extending a hand to Steve. “And you, I don’t think I know,” he said, turning his gaze directly onto Bucky.

That was more unnerving than it probably should have been.

“Bucky’s mostly here in case I pass out when you draw my blood,” Steve answered, seemingly unperturbed.

Though, Steve actually knew him and saw him regularly, Bucky assumed. He wouldn’t be uncomfortable with him.

The doctor nodded, offering Bucky a hand as well. “I’m Dr. Erskine. It’s always good to meet my patient’s support systems.”

Bucky nodded a little awkwardly, mumbling his thanks as he shook Dr. Erskine’s hand. It felt a little weird being referred to as Steve’s ‘support system’, especially when Steve didn't really get much support from him.

He wasn’t even sure what that was supposed to  _ mean _ .

The doctor at least then turned his focus back to Steve, asking about any side effects he might be experiencing and writing down his answers.

Neither of them seemed squeamish about any of it, with Steve talking about where and when he got his chest done, and Dr. Erskine asking about menstrual issues.

Most of it Bucky honestly tried to tune out, and he was a little uncomfortable sitting here listening to the two of them. It felt like he was intruding. No, he  _ was _ intruding, but with Steve’s permission if that made any sort of sense.

It felt both obscenely quick and entirely too long before Dr. Erskine nodded and stood up, offering his hand to both himself and Steve again.

“I’ll rewrite your prescriptions, if all is going well. You still use the same pharmacy?”

Steve nodded, outwardly looking as fine as ever but Bucky couldn’t help but think he looked a little drained all the same. They had maybe been there for thirty minutes, but Steve seemed a little run down just from that much.

Maybe it was a stress thing. His sister Mary could barely bring herself to do anything after even the shortest of doctor visits because she got so anxious about them.

“Then I’ll have it sent over to them. Allison will be in shortly to do your blood draw, and so long as the results are still normal I’ll have you come back six months from now.”

Steve murmured a quick ‘thank you’ as the doctor left, only to slump a bit into Bucky’s side once the door was closed. “God, I always get nervous over that part for no reason,” he complained. “Like, I know he’s not going to suddenly pull me off my medicine, but you hear so many horror stories, you know?”

Bucky  _ didn't _ know, but the prospect of that sounded horrifying. Was he supposed to ask about it? Or was he supposed to nod and sympathize right now, then look it up on his own later? He had no idea.

Thankfully, he didn't have time to do much more than wrap an arm around Steve’s thin shoulders and squeeze briefly before there was another knock at the door and a nurse--Allison, Bucky assumed--walked in.

“Steve,” she greeted warmly, pushing a cart along with her. “Mind getting up on the table for me so we can get this part over and let you go back home?”

There was a small, worn smile as Steve slid out from under Bucky’s arm and hopped up on the tissue paper-covered table and turned up his right wrist for her. Only to hold out his left hand towards Buck with a hopeful twitch to his brows.

This was pretty obviously exactly what he’d been brought along for, and Bucky didn't hesitate before standing up and sliding his hand into Steve’s. “Eyes on me, Stevie,” he said softly. 

Not that he needed to say as much, given the fact that Steve was making a point to look anywhere but at his right arm as the nurse got everything together, tying a tourniquet just above his elbow.

“It’s going to pinch a bit,” the nurse warned.

“Yep, I know,” Steve replied, a little tightly as his gaze focused just over Bucky’s shoulder.

Bucky caught the wince when the needle went into his arm. It wasn’t exactly subtle, but it didn't seem to disturb what the nurse was doing, at least. God forbid they have to do this all over again just because the needle dislodged.

“Just breathe slow,” Bucky instructed, well aware it probably came off as a little condescending. But the only other time he’d done this sort of thing, it had been with his younger sisters, so it was more or less habit to do it that way.

At the very least, Steve didn't protest. He didn't actually say much of anything until the nurse pulled out the needle and instructed him to put pressure on the cotton ball over it while she wrapped it up tight.

Steve looked a little  _ more  _ tired now. Bucky tried not to fret too much over it while they were in the doctor’s office.

“I can drive back,” he offered once they were finally walking out, after scheduling the follow-up and making sure all his prescriptions were in order.

He’d expected a bit of a fight. A bit of stubborn ‘I can do it myself’, or something like that.

Bucky was more than a little relieved when Steve passed over the keys without anything even resembling an argument. “She’s got a little trouble maintaining speed sometimes, but that’s about all you have to look out for.”

Bucky made a point to stop somewhere along the way, both for his sugary coffee and to make sure Steve actually ate something before they parted ways.

He tried to convince himself that it was normal to worry about that kind of thing. That they were friends and that was all there was to it.

It wasn’t convincing even to himself, but what else could he do about it?

* * *

Clint had more or less stopped acknowledging it as an event when Steve was in their dorm.

It wasn’t that Steve was over every day, or that they were even fucking every time Steve came over. They definitely did more often than not, but that wasn’t the point here.

And, honestly, Bucky would say that he was over at Steve’s about half as often as he was over at theirs, but he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that either.

Bucky himself wasn’t sure when Steve’s presence felt almost expected. When it became weird to just be himself and Clint in their room.

“What’s with all these foreign films?” Bucky asked when Steve cued up the next movie on his syllabus.

“It’s literally a class on foreign films, Buck. That’s the entire point of it.”

At least there was the small mercy of Steve letting Bucky be the big spoon for once. Though, he was pretty sure that was because he decided he actually should start taking more detailed notes and that was hard to do if Bucky was between himself and the laptop.

Whatever. It was a small victory anyways.

“And you’re watching them with me instead of doing the proper Netflix and Chill thing because…?” Regardless, that didn't stop Bucky from worming his way down so that he could press a chaste kiss just behind Steve’s ear.

“Well. Because it’s more fun to fuck you if I don’t have any assignments in the way, for starters.”

Bucky snorted, pinching Steve’s ribs in retaliation. “Being a smartass isn’t cute, you know.”

“Really? Then why do you keep bringing me to bed?”

“Cuddling doesn’t count as ‘bringing you to bed. You just have to be warm and fit with me.”

“God you two are sickening,” Clint muttered, not even looking up from his own work. “I’m waiting for you two to be out of the honeymoon phase so I can actually wear my hearing aids around my own dorm again.”

“Clint, you didn't even wear them before Steve started coming around.” Bucky didn't bother pointing out that there  _ was _ no honeymoon phase because they weren’t dating. They were just. Friends who fucked around a lot. That was a thing. A pretty common one, Bucky was pretty sure.

Clint made a point to flip them off before turning onto his stomach. Probably because, even if he most likely didn't see what Bucky had said, he got the gist of it regardless.

That’s what happened, he thought, when two people lived in such cramped quarters for as long as they had.

Steve just snickered, switched windows just long enough to type something out, and turning down the volume a few clicks just for good measure. “You shouldn’t be so rude, Buck. Look at what you did.”

In spite of the disapproving click of his tongue, Bucky just pulled Steve closer to his chest. “Aren’t you supposed to be on my side here?”

“If we were dating, probably. But seeing as you’re just really good stress relief…”

“You’re awful,” Bucky muttered, in spite of the fact that he wasn’t anywhere close to offended. It was honestly a little reassuring that Clint’s complaining hadn’t given Steve any ideas about what it was they were doing here.

It wasn’t dating. It was just… a little fun between friends, was all. Never mind the fact that Bucky had never actually cuddled like this with a fling unless they had just finished fucking, but whatever. It was fine. Nothing to start stressing out over, at least.

* * *

Bucky was pretty sure that tonight was going to end with him getting fucked, even if it was a quicker production than it usually was with Steve.

They had a time table of sorts. Steve had been quick to drag him into a kiss the second Bucky was through the door, only to whisper how they had an hour tops to get the job done.

There was a certain frantic energy they had, even though neither of them had actually taken anything off yet. Steve was still hot and eager in his lap, teeth worrying over Bucky’s pulse while Bucky had resigned himself to holding on for dear life.

And then he heard the lock click open.

Apparently their string of good luck with not being walked in on was bound to come to an end. And they couldn’t have been caught by Clint, because that would just be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“Really, Rogers? On my loveseat?” Sam asked.

Bucky froze, hands visibly rucking Steve’s shirt up to the point where it was practically half off. He could feel Steve’s sigh against the damp skin of his neck as he detached himself from it.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with the study group for another hour? Come on, I had this timed out and everything.” He paused, leaning back to look at Sam which meant that Bucky had to support his back just in case he lost his balance in the process. “Besides, it’s  _ our _ loveseat. We went halfsies on it.”

Sam huffed, his bag hitting the floor with a muffled ‘thunk’. “You were also supposed to be at our study group. I thought you’d gotten sick or something.”

“I’m not constantly sick anymore, Sam.”

There was a moment of panic when Steve swung himself off of Bucky’s lap where Bucky wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.

At least there was the small mercy of his dick immediately going soft over the panic of Sam walking through the door. He didn't have to worry about covering that up.

“All right, I’m going to go switch dicks. You two play nice, unless you’re going to go back to yours, Buck.”

Yeah, this was about as bad as it could be considering they were still mostly clothed. Steve was fucking shameless. Still, he nodded at Steve as he sequestered himself into the bathroom to, well. Switch dicks, apparently.

At least Sam didn't seem perturbed in the slightest, which was more than Bucky could say for himself. He buried his face in his hands, breathing in slowly as if that would somehow make this whole thing better, even though it was probably just prolonging the awkwardness.

“Ok, I’m going to put this bluntly because I don’t have time for nuance and I have blessedly never run into you in our dorm before,” Sam said, breaking the silence. “But Steve’s more sensitive than he lets on, and if I find out you hurt him, I’m going to hurt you worse.”

Bucky blinked a few times, hands dropping to his sides. Was this… Was Sam seriously giving him a shovel talk right now?

“We’re not dating. I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.” He should probably leave. Steve hadn’t explicitly told him that he should, but he was pretty sure that it would be weird if he stayed.

That got Sam to scoff, dramatically rolling his eyes as he toed off his shoes and kicked his bag to the side a bit. “Yeah. Sure you’re not. Whatever your calling it, same thing applies. He’s a good guy who’s had bad luck with  _ other _ guys. Don’t put yourself on that list.”

It kind of seemed like Steve was taking a long time. He’d sat through the process of Steve putting away the dick he fucked with often enough to know that it probably shouldn’t be taking this long. “Look, it’s just fucking between friends. He literally called me his stress relief last week. You’re kind of reading more into this than there actually is.”

He didn't even have to look at Sam to know that there was obvious disbelief on his face. He could just feel it. Years of having younger sisters as well as his own mother shoot similar looks at him in regards to his love life--not to mention Natasha--had made Bucky almost hyper-aware of when it was being aimed at him.

Shooting a quick look behind him as if he could will Steve to appear and save him from this awkward moment, Bucky finally got on his feet. It was probably well past time for him to leave, at this point. “I’m not going to hurt him,” he said, smoothing out his shirt as best he could. His hair was a lost cause so he didn't even bother with trying to fix that. “But you’re still reading too much into it, and I don’t think Steve would appreciate the insinuation any more than I do.”

Not that Bucky was ever going to bring it up to Steve. The only thing that made a shovel talk more awkward is the other party being  _ aware _ that a shovel talk happened. Whether it was warranted or not.

There was a low, disbelieving hum from Sam that reminded him entirely too much of Natasha.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Steve,” he called as he passed Sam, just so he wasn’t that asshole who left without saying anything.

Granted, he didn't wait for a response either, so. He probably was still at least somewhat of an asshole. But so long as he remembered to check in with Steve later, it should be fine. Maybe he was hiding so he didn't have to deal with the confrontation or something like that, because it shouldn’t have taken him nearly this long to get himself resituated.

* * *

It took another three days for he and Steve to actually get together again, and even then it was just a brief coffee break between Bucky’s classes. And while normally that wouldn’t raise much of an issue for Bucky, the timing of it felt… off.

The fact that Bucky wasn’t the one cancelling also felt a little off, but maybe Steve was just busy with finals coming up. God knew that Bucky probably should be studying or working on his papers instead of sitting here with Steve, but he wasn’t nearly strong enough to keep away from him. It was fine. Didn't have to mean anything.

Steve looked exhausted with prominent dark circles under his eyes as he slid into the booth across from Bucky.

“Late night?” Bucky asked, halfheartedly offering his own coffee to Steve. Even though he knew full well that Steve wouldn’t take it because of how much sugar Bucky put in it. It was the thought that counted, probably.

“Sam is not quiet when he’s nervously pacing around the dorm at three in the morning.” Steve sighed, pressing the heels of his hands over his eyes.

He only had one ring on today, Bucky couldn’t help but notice. A delicate, bronze colored band around his middle finger.

Bucky hummed sympathetically, sliding down against the booth so he could knock the side of his foot against Steve’s shin. “Just a couple more weeks, right? Then we all get to go home until next semester starts.”

“God, that’ll be nice. I didn't realize how nice it was to have my own room until I started college.”

He couldn’t help but laugh softly, barely audible. “Nice for you, then. I get to go home and share a three bedroom place with five other people, and hope that they haven’t tried to combine mine and Becca’s rooms again.”

“That’s entirely too many Barnes’ in one place. Are you all strutting around and cooking all the time, or is that just you?”

“I’ll have you know that strutting is a Barnes family tradition, Rogers. Show some respect for the craft.”

Finally, Steve dropped his hands to the table. Still looking tired, but there was definitely a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Oh, I appreciate the craft all right. Just, you know. I’d rather there was only one of you doing it, y’know?” He paused, falling back into the more somber look that he’d walked in with. “Look, did Sam… I mean, he kind of has the habit of nosing into other people’s business. Did he… y’know. Say anything?”

Well. There was that out in the open. And like hell was Bucky going to actually  _ admit _ to it. Instead, he scoffed and straightened himself up to mirror Steve. “The Barnes’ also have a long tradition of getting into everyone else’s business, so that’s nothing new for me. But no, he didn't ‘y’know, say anything’.” In at least partly a show, he quirked his brows up a tick. “Why, should he have?”

The relief rolling off Steve was palpable, and Bucky was pretty sure that it was the right thing for him to say. “Nah. He just thinks he knows best all the time. You know how older brothers are.”

“Stevie, I  _ am _ an older brother. We  _ do _ know best all the time.”

While Steve didn't outright laugh, there was definitely a softening to his mouth and eyes that conveyed the feeling all the same.

The fact that it warmed something in Bucky’s chest was unimportant and probably didn't mean anything other than him liking it when people liked him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again <3 So, I actually loosely based the doctor's office on the one I go to. It's very bright and cheery, and I'm so lucky to have them
> 
> I actually finished the writing portion of this fic, thankfully. Now all that's left is to hammer the ending into shape because, pals. There's a lot of sections that need reworking
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading, and your comments and kudos are always cherished and appreciated


	5. Chapter 5

“A little birdie told me that you and Steve are exclusive.”

“Nat, I swear to god if you’re trying to distract me just so you can pass me--”

Well. Apparently it worked considering that Natasha snuck ahead of him in the last possible second and stole his victory.

She smirked as she set down the controller, content to watch Daisy dance on screen and then for the stats to roll by. Bucky’s Luigi was still on the podium in second place, but it wasn’t the same. “No, but that was definitely a nice touch. But really, you and Steve? Clint’s been complaining about him being over all the time, and you _ never _ bring people over.”

“Clint is a liar and a traitor.” God, why was he even surprised though? Steve was over often enough that obviously Clint would mention it to Natasha at some point. “We’re not dating. It’s just a thing.” He winced a little bit internally. Again with calling it a thing. But he didn't have a better word for it, so there it was. The working title was becoming the permanent title, apparently.

He didn't even have to look over to be able to see the obvious disbelief on Natasha’s face. “It’s just a thing that’s been going on for the better half of a semester. That’s longer than you usually pine after a person, James. Are you really going to act like it’s just another fling to you?”

It seemed like it was just the month of getting interrogated by people about himself and Steve. Which just seemed like weird timing, given that the semester was winding down and it wasn’t exactly a new, shiny thing anymore.

Maybe it was something Natasha wanted to poke at now  _ because _ it wasn’t a shiny new thing anymore, and therefore it was weird.

Bucky just shrugged, sinking down lower onto Nat’s beat up couch. “We’re not dating. What else would it be?”

“You never settle with one person this long. I mean, barring Brock--”

“We’re leaving Brock out of this,” Bucky interrupted, straightening up on defensive instinct alone. Even the name tightened his throat uncomfortably, making Bucky want to curl up somewhere.

There was an obvious flash of sympathy across Natasha’s face, and Bucky was pretty sure he hated that more. “Why? Because you haven’t dated anyone since, and I know you were a sucker for a romance before him.”

“And here I was, thinking college was the time to go out and experiment instead of settling down.” He raked a hand through his hair, forgetting it was tied back until it came loose and fell to his shoulders. “Look. It’s just a little fun. Hell, Steve’s consistently referred to me as ‘really good stress relief’, so it’s not like he wants it to be a relationship either.”

Bucky was getting really tired of bringing up that point. It was starting to grate at his throat a little bit with how often it felt like he’d been repeated it.

“Oh my god, what an idiot,” Natasha muttered. Before Bucky could parse out which one of them she was referring to, she continued. “What about what you want, James? Regardless of Steve, how do you feel about the whole thing? Because it’s not like you to stick with one person for even two days, much less two months.”

He couldn’t even come up with a response to that. Of course he didn't want a relationship. Relationships took time and effort; neither were things he could really spare, nor did he want to spare.

Never mind that he’d consistently made time for Steve and went out of his way to make sure he was taking care of himself. That was something that worked around his schedule as it was.

For some reason, Bucky couldn’t manage to articulate that. He had the words in mind, but forming them was just… He couldn’t do it, and he  _ knew _ it just made it seem like Nat was right even though she wasn’t.

“He’s a good guy, is all,” he finally said. “It’s fun to be around him. Why does it have to be anything more than that?”

Natasha wormed an arm around his shoulders, tugging him against her side. Not that he even remotely fit against her small frame like that, but he knew better than to try and stop her. “You should think about it, James. Maybe talk to  _ him _ about it, because from my end? It sure as hell doesn’t look like it’s a fling for you.”

“Nat, you’re reading way too much into this. All of you are reading way too much into this, and it’s getting on my nerves at this point.”

At least she didn't try to push it further. She still hummed disbelievingly at him, but after a few moments she let him up and needled him into another round of Mario Kart.

He didn't win the next several races either, but he’d long since accepted that she was just better at it than he was.

* * *

It should have just been left at that. Bucky should have been able to put that out of his mind and just forget it ever happened.

Apparently he couldn’t manage that.

Bucky had no idea what time it was, but he was acutely aware that his alarm was going to go off in less than five hours and he would be absolutely miserable all day because of how little sleep he’d be getting.

Bad enough that Nat had to question  _ his _ feelings on the matter, but she also had to bring up his ex, as if he was the reason that he wanted nothing to do with relationships.

That, maybe, he would admit she was right about. But that just made it all the worse and made him sound a little pathetic.

Bucky had pointedly not examined how he felt about Steve beyond the physical. Every weird pang, every warm glow; he’d pushed that down the second he felt it. There was no point in it, was there? It didn't really matter.

Except now Natasha had to bring it up, and he  _ couldn’t stop thinking about it _ .

It wasn’t… God, it definitely wasn’t love. Not really. Even with all that he did know about Steve, he couldn’t claim to really  _ know _ him like he would if they were dating.

But--

But maybe it could be.

The thought absolutely terrified him, tying his throat and stomach up in knots until he felt ill.

Somewhere along the road, the rules had changed. It had stopped being solely about sex and turned into a sort of companionship as time went on. And now, looking back, it was hard to ignore that.

It was in the little things. Making post-coital breakfast food for the pair of them. Taking Steve to his doctor’s. Watching movies with him so that Steve wouldn’t put them off to the last possible second.

It wasn’t--

To call it ‘caretaking’ felt inaccurate. Yeah, he was definitely trying to look after Steve, but it was just…

He wanted to make Steve happy, was the thing. And that had become a problem, because the lines of what they were doing had gotten blurred to the point where Bucky wasn’t sure where they had even been to begin with.

And that… What was he supposed to do with that? Was he supposed to bring it up to Steve; tell that maybe they should ease off or figure out what it was they were doing? Except Bucky wasn’t sure he wanted to know what the answer was. If he  _ had _ an answer, that would just make it real.

And if it was real, then Bucky was almost positive he’d find the first excuse to bolt, but he wasn’t quite willing to lose whatever it was that he had with Steve just yet.

His phone proclaimed it to be four in the morning. At this point, he was better off just getting up and plying himself with coffee, because lying in bed wasn’t doing him any good. If anything, it was just making him overthink it more and more.

He groaned lowly as he swung himself out of bed, figuring that he could polish up a few of his final papers if he was going to be up anyways.

* * *

Bucky was definitely out of breath, clutching at the sheets like a lifeline  as he tried not to collapse under the meager weight of Steve draped over his back.

The fucking vibe was still going, and Bucky was pretty sure he would start to cry if it went on much longer. Bad enough that Steve couldn’t go soft like this and was putting constant pressure on his prostate, but adding to the vibration at his rim? It was definitely tripping him into oversensitivity fast.

“Stevie,” he complained, groping behind him until he got a hand on Steve’s bony hip. “Stevie, c’mon.”

He could feel more than hear the huff of laughter as Steve picked himself upright. Pulling out just enough so that he could fiddle with his dick before slumping forward again.

The thrust back in jolted a whine out of Bucky, his tongue far too thick in his mouth to articulate anything more than that.

“You can hold it for me, sweet thing,” Steve crooned, smoothing his palm over Bucky’s stomach. Blessedly he avoided touching Bucky’s cock, though he came dangerously close a time or two.

The fact that Steve did this just about every time he topped convinced him that Steve had a thing for cockwarming that was quickly growing on Bucky in turn.

It felt like an hour passed before Steve finally pulled out with a sharp sigh, only to immediately collapse on the bed next to Bucky. A soft fond smile on his lips as he reached out to brush his knuckles across his cheek. “God you’re gorgeous,” he said softly as he dropped his fingers to the rough seam of scarring between Bucky’s skin and the prosthesis. Just pressing against it, and Bucky couldn’t help but to hide his face in the blankets as if that would make that look on Steve’s face go away.

It didn't. Bucky was pretty sure that was burned in his memory now and it made him squirm a bit against the damp sheets.

Christ, now he had to do laundry. These were his spares.

“What, still trying to charm me? I think we made it pretty obvious that I quit playing hard to get.” The words were muffled, since Bucky couldn’t bring himself to look at Steve yet.

At least it got Steve to scoff, the warmth of his hand disappearing as the mattress shifted. “Just take the damn compliment, Buck.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The heaviness of Steve’s earlier words at least dissipated a bit, to the point where Bucky could actually convince himself to roll onto his back, out of the wet spot, so he could look at Steve.

Not that he planned on leaving the bed for another hour, at which point he’d be complaining about how disgusting it was.

Steve seemed to take that as his cue to start moving; shimmying out of his briefs before starting to disassemble his dick. The condom was discarded in an easy motion without Steve having to even look where he was tossing it.

“You going home over summer break?” Steve asked as he considered his briefs before deciding just to leave them off for now and curled up on the bed just as nude as Bucky was.

His nose wrinkled a bit at having to consider his family while his ass still felt loose and soft. “Yeah. My ma has been calling me every week just to make sure I haven’t changed my mind about it.”

“Your ma and my ma would get along very well. She’s been doing the same since midterms.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh a bit, stretching his arms over his head and trying not to wince when his arm audibly clinked as the plates shifted to accommodate the motion.

He  _ also _ tried not to shy away when he could feel Steve’s gaze follow it, even though he was pretty sure there wasn’t anything more than curiosity in his eyes. It still left a bit of a sour taste in his mouth.

And  _ that _ apparently showed on his face, considering that Steve immediately jumped into, “You know that I think that’s beautiful too, right?”

That just made it seem worse, to Bucky. While he got that Steve was trying to be reassuring, he didn't like attention being drawn to it. “Are you going to insist I just take that damn compliment as well?”

“Buck.”

There was something a little demanding in that single word that brought him up short. He had a half-hearted notion to tug at least a blanket up to cover himself, but he found he couldn’t even manage that much.

Steve visibly swallowed, pressing his legs together a bit as he cracked and looked away first. “I just… I know you’re a little self-conscious about it. And it’s not the same, but I know what it’s like to feel like some part of you is just wrong and unlovable, so…”

Anything Bucky considered saying in response got tied up in his throat, his skin feeling uncomfortably raw. This wasn’t something he wanted to deal with, now or ever. And it was only made worse because he recognized at least some of that phrasing from when he’d first lost his arm to begin with.

“When did you talk to Natasha?” he asked. Internally, he winced at how hollow his voice sounded. Detached, even.

Apparently his guess had been dead-on, considering that Steve seemed to stiffen up immediately. Bucky could hear the click of his throat as he swallowed.

“You know we’re in a study group together. Of course we talk sometimes.”

Right. He knew that. That was how they reconnected in the first place; it wasn’t any stranger than Sam confronting him while Bucky was in their dorm.

Sort of.

It just felt different knowing that Natasha had talked to Steve about his arm.

Now, Bucky managed to at least pull the covers up over his hips and thighs, as if that would make him feel any less vulnerable. “Did she say anything else?”

“Buck, you’re being a little--”

“Steve,” he cut in, deliberately looking anywhere but at Steve.

The pause felt heavy before he finally answered. “Look, she just said that she knows where I sleep and that I should be at least a little gentle with you. Which seems a little ridiculous and is definitely overkill.”

This whole thing just kept getting worse and worse, and Bucky could safely say that the blissful afterglow was long gone. “So she gave you the shovel-talk, is what I’m hearing.”

“I mean, I guess if you want to put it that way.” There was a little bit of shuffling and the mattress shifted as Steve got off of it. “But I’m pretty sure we’d have to be dating for it to count as  a shovel talk, and we--”

“We’re not dating.”

If Bucky had thought the previous pause felt heavy, it didn't compare to this. The weight of it pressing down on him, making him feel almost panicked the longer it went on.

Finally, he looked over at Steve and immediately wished he hadn’t.

Steve seemed to be frozen, eyes unseeingly focused on the floor with his briefs halfway up his thighs.

It struck him how small Steve looked at that moment, with his back and shoulders hunched, fair hair shadowing his face. Which was odd considering that he was pretty sure Steve had been about to say the exact same thing.

Bucky tried to swallow around the knot in his throat, though he was pretty sure he failed. “It’s… We’re not, are we?”

That, at least, spurred Steve back into motion. Hiking up his briefs before ducking down to retrieve his shirt and pulling that on a little hurriedly. “No, no, of course not. I mean… Why would we be dating, right?” The accompanying laugh sounded painfully strained, and there was a moment of hesitation before he opened one of the little black bags and shoved the cock sheath into his briefs before returning to look for his pants.

“Right,” Bucky echoed, well aware that this conversation was careening way off course but unsure what he could do to stop it. His body seemed to be running on autopilot, leaving Bucky as almost a bystander even as he kept speaking. “I just… I’m not the dating type, you know? I’m good for some quick fun, but. That’s about it.”

“Yeah, and that’s all I’m looking for here.” The zip of his fly sounded way too loud, making them both flinch.

It wasn’t enough to stop Steve from gathering his things at a not-quite too quick rate. “Look, I should go. I’ve got an early final next Monday that I should study for, and a project due Wednesday. But I’ll see you around, all right?”

Bucky nodded, still clutching at the blanket over his lower half and unable to move any more than that.

The smile Steve offered was a little forced. He didn't know what to do about it, even though it stuck with him well after the door closed.

* * *

If Bucky had miraculously missed the fact that he’d fucked up somewhere before, it became glaringly obvious when three days went by without Steve returning any of his texts.

And Bucky had even gone the route of double and triple texting Steve which just made him feel even more pathetic.

It didn't surprise him when he came back from one of his finals to see Natasha perched on his bed, and those were definitely Clint’s sweatpants with that weird off-lavender color.

Clint somehow had the ability to find any article of clothing in the worst shade of purple imaginable. It was a little inspiring.

Bucky sighed, shrugging his bag off his shoulders and removing his shoes as well. “I’m not moping, if that’s what you’re here about.” 

“I’m here because Steve’s moping.”

That--Well. Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised him either. Bucky sighed, taking the tie out of his hair and letting it fall loose to his shoulders. The last thing he needed was a tension headache on top of this. “I don’t know what to tell you. He’s got a lot of projects due this week and isn’t answering my texts.”

“You’ve been trying to get in contact with him?” The surprise coloring her tone just got Bucky’s hackles up.

With Natasha taking up residence on his bed, Bucky resigned himself to settling himself on Clint’s instead. “He’s my friend, Nat. Of course I’ve been trying to apologize to him.”

In spite of her surprise, at least that seemed to mollify her a bit. Nat allowed herself to slump a bit. While Bucky had definitely seen her in worse shape, he could pick up the clear worry in the set of her mouth. “Sam’s concerned. He’s the one who reached out to me to begin with; I figured you just burned your bridges with him like you usually do when someone starts to get too close.”

Sometimes Bucky wasn’t sure whose side Nat was on, because it sure as hell didn't feel like his.

Even though she’d watch him do that exact same thing multiple times over the last two years.

“He said that you threatened him if he hurt me. Which would have been out of line if we  _ were _ dating, and it’s even worse when we’re not.”

Nat rolled her eyes, shifting so that she was now cross-legged. “It was just a warning. You’re my best friend and you’re more sensitive than you want people to let on. And whether you want to admit it or not, he was getting closer to you than you usually let people. I was just being proactive.”

“You fucked up a perfectly good thing.”

“It’s the end of the semester, James. If it’s actually just a fling to you, it would have fizzled out over the summer anyways.”

That drew Bucky up short. Right. He’d been focusing on  _ his _ finals, and was well aware that Steve could be ignoring him for the sake of his own, and yet…

Christ, he and Steve had even talked about where they were going over the break. Why hadn’t it occurred to him that maybe that they were at the point where Bucky would usually break it off?

Well. Normally he would have broken it off after their first encounter, so they had already gone way past that point.

“Are you ready to admit that maybe you were wrong about what you two were doing?”

“We weren’t  _ dating _ , Natasha,” he repeated for what felt like the fiftieth time over the last two weeks.

“No. But I think you wanted to be.”

In spite of the fact that he was pretty sure Natasha had raised the same sentiment before, it still struck him this time.

Was that what the whole thing was? Beyond wanting a good lay that was consistent, he’d actively tried to make sure that Steve wasn’t uncomfortable around him. Had tried to make him happy in other ways.

Hell, he’d settled for just being around him without the possibility of sex and it hadn’t even felt like he was settling for anything. It was just… It was nice. He liked it.

Bucky swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to bury his face in his hands. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Nat’s smile was soft, sympathetic. She unfolded her legs to lean over and offer a hand to him. “I’d think you were an idiot if you kept denying it, at least. But since you finally got it through your thick skull, I’m willing to overlook it.”

It was hard not to crack a smile at that, and Bucky was pretty sure that was the point. He reached out, sliding his hand into hers and squeezing gently. “Well. It’s a bit of a moot point now, isn’t it? Great to know, but it doesn’t help when Steve doesn’t want to talk to me.”

Bucky definitely wasn’t imagining the glint in Nat’s eye as she leaned back. “I’m sure I can figure out a way to remedy that, James. Don’t worry about that.”

“You can’t threaten your way out of this, Nat. That’s how you got me into this mess to begin with.”

She scoffed, rolling gracefully onto her feet. “You got yourself into this mess. But don’t worry; I’m not going to scare him into talking to you. We’re not fifteen anymore.”

That wasn’t particularly reassuring. But Bucky could admit, at least to himself, that he felt a glimmer of hope at the prospect that maybe, just maybe, it would work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, it's the little bit of drama
> 
> I'm thinking that I'll probably upload the last chapter and the epilogue both next Monday so I can wrap this up and no one has to wait any longer than necessary. As always, thank you so much for reading, and I greatly appreciate your comments and kudos <3


	6. Chapter 6

He didn't expect a confrontation from Sam, and maybe that was Bucky’s mistake.

His second to last final started in about thirty minutes, and Bucky was already sitting outside the lecture hall, waiting to be allowed in. One second he was minding his own business and trying to cram any last minute knowledge into his head, and the next he could feel a shadow looming over him. And when he looked up he didn't know what to do when faced with Sam watching him, looking at least mildly annoyed that he was here to begin with.

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure how he knew where to find him in the first place.

“If you’re here to kick my ass, can you at least wait until I finish my exam?” Bucky asked, trying not to feel so incredibly small as he sat cross-legged on the floor with Sam literally standing over him. Which was an odd way to feel when he was at least vaguely aware that he was a little taller than Sam was.

At least Sam scoffed, though he didn't unfold his arms. “You need to talk to Steve.”

God, of course. Now he was going to be stressing about this the rest of the day, and he was going to fail his test because of it.

At least his grades were good enough that he probably wouldn’t flunk entirely and be forced to retake stats next semester.

“If Steve would answer my texts, I’d be glad to talk to him. But it’s a two-way street, so I don’t know what to tell you right now.”

“Look. I’ve already gotten two different versions of what happened between you two. And I don’t particularly  _ want _ to hear another side of it because I’m not a fucking therapist. But what I’m getting is that Steve thinks you were implying some things that Nat doesn’t seem to think you were, and you two need to hash that out.”

Bucky sighed, head falling back against the wall with a dull thunk. “Again, I’ve been trying, but I can’t do anything if Steve doesn’t want to talk to me. I don’t know what you’re lecturing me for when I’m the one who’s been reaching out.”

Sam grimaced, finally uncrossing his arms. “Ok. So I know he won’t like me telling you this, but he thinks that you don’t want to date him because he’s… y’know. Trans. Nat seems to think you don’t want to date him because you just don’t date.”

That made him go cold, freezing in place and leaving him stuck staring up at Sam. Steve thought that? Even though Bucky had specifically said that  _ he _ wasn’t the dating type and that it had nothing to do with Steve?

“He said we weren’t dating either,” Bucky said, as if that would somehow excuse himself. As if that somehow fixed this, when really Bucky was pretty sure he should have kept his mouth shut about that.

What did it matter, anyways?

“Again, that’s between you and Steve. I’m not playing mediator here.”

“I don’t know what it is you  _ are _ doing here, aside from telling me things that I’ve already tried to do.”

Sam seemed to pause, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “He’s been moping a lot at that little coffee shop. The one with the weird chairs, five blocks off campus? Maybe you’ll have better luck if you try to talk to him in  person.”

Bucky wasn’t entirely sure why the effort was being put on him when Steve was just as capable of just replying to his damn texts. But given the fact that even the  _ thought _ of being able to fix things, to make it right and just be around Steve again made his heart clench a little, he knew he was going to do it anyways.

* * *

It took three tries before Bucky managed to get close enough to actually speak to Steve.

At least once it hadn’t been Steve intentionally brushing him off. Bucky had just arrived a little too late and hadn’t managed to catch him before the door closed behind him, and Bucky wasn’t quite sure if he should turn around and chase after him.

The time they  _ did _ manage to connect, it hadn’t been intentional.

It was getting time to pack up the dorm and head back home, which Bucky was actively procrastinating by sunning himself on campus instead. There was a slight chance he’d get burned, but it was better than maneuvering around a cramped room with Clint while they both tried to pack up their things.

He hadn’t expected to see Steve crossing campus, carrying a large canvas along with him.

Bucky was on his feet before he had the chance to think it through, hurrying to fall into step with Steve who didn't seem to have noticed him approaching.

“Do you need a hand with that?” he asked softly, hoping not to startle Steve.

It didn’t work, and Steve seemed to lose his grasp on the canvas for a split second as his head swiveled towards Bucky.

God, if he’d felt small under Sam’s scrutiny, it had nothing on the blazing anger in Steve’s eyes for a brief second.

Thankfully, he dropped his gaze just as quickly, even if he didn't stop walking. “I’m not looking for your pity, Buck. I just need some space right now.”

“It’s not pity, Stevie.” Two quick steps had him ahead of Steve, cutting him off physically. It probably wouldn’t work, and he knew that it probably just strengthened Steve’s resolve to not talk to him. “It’s… I want to explain myself. Because Sam thinks you heard something that I wasn’t saying, and I want to set the record straight.”

There was definitely a wariness to Steve’s eyes, obviously balking before thrusting the canvas at Bucky. “You’re going to have to walk while you talk. I need to get this to my professor in… Twenty minutes at the absolute latest. I’m already pushing my extension as it is.”

It was probably the best outcome Bucky could have hoped for, all things considered. He was especially careful when wrapping his left hand around the piece, knowing he was more likely to damage it with that one.

He dutifully fell into step with Steve, who didn't seem interested in looking at him, but at least it was a start. “I’m really not a relationship person,” he started, when it seemed that Steve wasn’t going to give him an invitation to talk. “I meant that. I’ve dated one person, and that was Brock.”

There was a small hiss in what Bucky hoped was sympathy. He didn't know how well Steve  _ knew _ Brock, but the one encounter they had that Bucky was aware of was--

Well. At least Brock had never been outright violent with Bucky.

“Yeah. I’m guessing you can figure out how well that worked. So when I say I’m not the dating type, that’s literally what I mean. I haven’t dated since and, well. I haven’t particularly wanted to either.”

Steve didn't say anything for a while, though he did touch Bucky’s elbow to turn him down one of the pathways, so Bucky was going to take that as a good sign.

“So it has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with you,” Steve summarized.

Bucky couldn’t quite hide his wince, mouth pressing into a thin line. He deserved that.

“Are you just repeating that you don’t want to date me with better context, or was there something else you wanted to say?”

Bucky could really say that was it. That he just wanted to clear the air and have it end there.

Except Bucky didn't  _ really _ want that to be it, as much as the heart in his throat insisted that the sooner this plea for forgiveness ended, the sooner he could go back to licking his wounds.

“I think… I know I said we weren’t dating, and I stand by that. But maybe…” It was hard to keep his grip from tightening, from tensing up as he prepared himself to actually  _ say _ it. “But maybe I want to be.”

Steve stopped entirely, which Bucky didn't actually realize until he turned around to see Steve several paces behind him.

For the first time, Bucky considered that maybe this was the wrong thing to try and do. That maybe Steve didn't want to date him in return. Maybe his avoidance and hurt had been because of his perception of  _ why  _ it ended, instead of it ending in general.

Bucky swallowed thickly, hoping that would dislodge the knot that had formed so high in his throat that he wasn’t sure he could even speak around it.

“You would want to date  _ me _ ,” Steve repeated.

Christ, his chest ached. There was a smallness to Steve’s voice that Bucky was entirely unaccustomed to hearing. Something a little unsteady, unsure, when Bucky had never heard anything like that before in his tone.

He was helpless to do anything but nod, trying to keep his shoulders straight. “I just… I like spending time with you. I like being  _ around _ you, and I don’t want to miss out on that.”

Apparently this was just baffling to Steve, considering that he seemed rooted to the spot. “Let me repeat this so I make sure I’m hearing this right. You don’t date because you have commitment issues from your ex, and it has nothing to do with me being… you know. But you also want to date  _ me _ in spite of your weird commitment issues. Is that what this conversation is?”

It almost sounded simple when Steve put it like that, even though it didn't feel that way in his head. “Well. Yeah. Yeah, that’s about what I’m saying here.”

He could see Steve’s throat work as he swallowed, lower lip quivering for a brief moment before picking up the pace, passing Bucky in a matter of seconds. “We’re going to have a talk about this after I turn this in. Just… Just hold that thought for me, ok? Because I’m still on a deadline so I can’t be trying to jump you right here and now.”

Without even thinking, Bucky had already started following behind, feeling a little bit like a lost puppy.

Well. There was probably a bit of truth to that assessment. “Jump me as in you’re going to kick my ass, or…? Because I’m pretty sure you could, if you put your mind to it.”

There was something definitely sharp about the flash of teeth that Steve shot him from over his shoulder. “Gorgeous, you’re soft enough that you’d  _ let me _ kick your ass. And I’m pretty sure you’d even enjoy it.”

And, well. There was  _ definitely _ a measure of truth to that.

Something in Bucky’s chest loosened, though. While he could practically see the wall of bravado Steve had up, it felt better than the cold shoulder he’d been feeling for the last week.

* * *

They ended up back at the same diner where they had reconnected. Bucky was pretty sure they were in the same booth even, but it felt far emptier when it was just the two of them sitting across from each other.

Steve wasn’t wearing the heavy boots Bucky was used to seeing him in, though he could still hear the faint thunk of his heels hitting the booth as they looked over the menus.

There was a good chance they were both using them as a shield so they didn't have to look at each other right now, but Bucky wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

“So.” Steve broke the silence first, prompting Bucky to finally glance up at him.

Steve looked tired. The beginnings of dark circles beneath his eyes, and he almost looked paler than usual.

“So,” Bucky repeated, unsure what else to say. Did they just jump right into it? Were they supposed to make small talk first? It seemed safer just to follow Steve’s lead here.

At least that got a small, reluctant smile out of Steve. “So, did you have a plan after telling me that you wanted to date, or was that about as far ahead as you thought?”

A rueful smile tugged at his lips as he shrugged. “I was kind of expecting you to turn me down, so. That’s as far as I thought I was going to get.”

They paused long enough to order their food when their waiter approached, but it looked like Steve was at least less rigid than he had been earlier.

“You know we’re going back home for a couple months, right? I mean. I don’t think we’ll be seeing much of each other until next semester, so.”

God, right, that. Bucky knew that. That was why it felt important to say something  _ now _ before they parted ways for a few months. Even though, objectively, maybe that would have given Steve some time to cool down and not be so upset at Bucky. “Where is home for you? I mean, if it’s close enough to mine, I wouldn’t mind coming out to visit. If you want.”

“New York.”

Bucky blinked a few times. He knew that New York was a decently sized state for the east coast, but-- “The city, or state?”

A smile tugged at Steve’s mouth, almost a little proud. “Brooklyn. Is that close enough for you to visit?”

And, god. Bucky had to press his lips together in a firm line to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. “My family moved out to Brooklyn when I was sixteen. I think I can manage to make the trek.”

“You’re shitting me.” There was something almost  _ offended _ in the narrowing of his eyes. As if he was scandalized by the mere fact that Bucky lived in the same borough as him.

It was cute. Steve was cute.

“Private school kid. You probably didn't see me around, is all.”

“You have three sisters, and you all went to private school? Jesus Christ, Buck.” He shook his head as he slouched down against the booth.

Bucky didn't even try to stop himself from laughing at him this time. “So I take it that’s a ‘yes’ to coming to see you over summer break? Or can you not be seen dating another Brooklynite either?”

Steve scoffed, probably not nearly as bothered as he was acting but Bucky found himself enjoying the show. “Don’t kid yourself. You’re still just a transplant.”

“Stevie.”

His mouth pressed into a thin line, eyes dropping to the table. As if he didn't know what to do with himself now that he knew that he  _ could _ see Bucky over break and that wasn’t a viable excuse anymore. The air felt a little heavier now.

Maybe it had just been a cop-out from the start. Except it didn't  _ seem _ like he wanted Bucky to get lost. If he did, he wouldn’t have let Bucky go any further than helping to carry his painting to one of his professors. And Bucky was pretty sure he wouldn’t have even gotten  _ that _ far, if that had been the case.

“What are you so nervous about?” he asked softly. It struck him as odd that he would even be asking that to begin with, considering how self-assured Steve seemed to be all the time.

Hell. The first time they met, Steve had been pissy and aggravated just because Bucky stepped in to stop a fight. He had seemed barely shaken after that.

Or. He was shaken, but had been damn good at hiding it. Faintly, Bucky could remember the slight tremble to his hands while Bucky had been patching him up.

“I’m trying to figure out what the catch is,” Steve admitted, matching Bucky’s volume. “Because it just can’t this easy, can it? I mean… Not only have you made the least bit of fuss about me being,” he gestured vaguely instead of actually verbalizing it.

Bucky got the gist anyways.

“But you’re also a softy, and beautiful, and you live in my fucking hometown? Come on, Buck. That’s just one thing too many.”

That was a lot to try and process. He didn't even know where to start breaking that down, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to anyways. Because apparently Steve’s problem was that he was too good?

That was probably the dream to a lot of people, honestly.

“I mean, you know I’m a mess of commitment issues, so I’d say that’s a pretty decent strike against me.”

“Well, yeah, and your hair kind of gets in the way of everything so that’s also pretty shitty.”

It seemed as simple as that, really. Bucky snorted, pushing a few strands back off his forehead. “You’re the one pulling on it all the time. You don’t get to act like you hate it when you’re constantly playing with it.”

Steve leaned forward, across the table as if he was going to pull on it right now to prove his point. “Doll, I wouldn’t play with it as much if you didn't shoot off the second I touched it.”

And, really, Bucky had a hard time holding onto any sort of tension if that was how Steve was going to be. It wasn’t quite back to their old comfort, but it sure as hell was a start.

* * *

The whole ‘actual date’ thing was more nerve wracking than it really should have been, in Bucky’s opinion.

Vaguely, he was reminded of the first time he had invited Steve over to his dorm, but this time it was more fussing with his hair and not his bed.

And this time Becca was there to tease him about it, so that just made everything worse.

When Steve finally texted him to say he was outside, Bucky felt both like he could finally breathe again, and like he was about to vibrate out of his skin.

Then it was the task of dodging his parents and other sisters on his way out the door, which he was only moderately successful at. By the time he was finally on the sidewalk, both his mother and youngest sister had commented on his shirt and hair respectively, leaving him a little flushed and embarrassed before he was even faced with Steve.

It was almost weird to see Steve there, leaning up against the building. Still in heavy black boots in the middle of June, but the shirt he wore was open almost all the way down the sides.

Even after just a few months, the hint of scarring he could see looked much fainter than when they’d first fucked.

Steve seemed to light up when he saw Bucky, pushing himself off the wall.

“It’s kinda weird to see you outside in public,” Steve teased.

There was a bit of relief that he wasn’t the only one thinking that. He gently nudged Steve’s shoulder before taking his hand. “Yeah, I don’t really know what to do with myself when you’re not biting my neck like an overly enthusiastic vampire.”

Steve laughed, tugging him along. “Well, I could do that now, but I’m pretty sure that would get us yelled at and I don’t know if you want to deal with that right now. Seems more like a third date activity.”

In spite of all his nerves, it almost felt  _ easy _ once he was falling in step with Steve. It felt easy to hold his hand, and be teased by him, and just enjoy being together.

For all his hang-ups, at least so far things seemed to be going pretty well.

Steve dragged him to an art exhibit, where they talked in hushed tones and Steve shot him a semi-disapproving look whenever Bucky would ogle the nude statues a little too long.

There was something in the way that Steve lit up when talking about color, or theme, and even though Bucky knew jack-shit about art there was something endearing about watching Steve be so passionate about something that he found himself enraptured anyways.

Christ, he was in deep. Enraptured? Really? Nat was never going to let him live this down.

It was almost worse when he found himself watching Steve with more interest than the paintings. Well. Not worse, but a little embarrassing all the same.

And it wasn’t even like he would normally check out a person. There was no surreptitiously looking at Steve’s ass, or his mouth. Bucky found himself focused on Steve’s gestures. The way his hand would wave to mimic the brush strokes of a piece, or the sweeping lines of charcoal. The way his teeth flashed as he grinned, just a little crooked against the rosiness of his lips.

There was something beautiful about it beyond what Bucky was used to looking for in a person.

It felt, though, that there was too much space between them. Even when he managed to convince Steve to spend a little more time with him after the gallery, tucked into one of those overpriced cafes with their ankles locked under the table.

It wasn’t like he wanted to be closer as in both of them naked on a bed, bodies slotting together.

(Though that would be nice, even if it probably wasn’t practical since they were both staying with their respective parents.)

And it was almost anxiety-inducing, when he’d remember the last time he’d felt like this about anyone, it had been Brock.

Except--

Except it still felt easy with Steve. Like it wasn’t honestly much different than what they had already been doing. It was like when they’d curl up around each other to watch Steve’s foreign films, or meet up for food between classes.

“I thought this was going to be weirder,” Bucky said, swirling his iced coffee just to keep his hands busy. “First dates are supposed to be more awkward than this, right?”

Steve laughed softly, ducking his head. “You know, I was thinking the same thing? But I never fucked my way into a date before, so maybe we already got over the initial awkward part while doing that.”

“What, you’re telling me that the people you fuck usually  _ don’t _ decide to date you after watching you eat a pancake with your bare hands afterwards?”

“Oh my god, I told you it was because I didn't want to make a mess of my bed. You’ve seen me use utensils before.”

While it was true, it didn't stop Bucky from grinning. He barely stopped himself from leaning over the table to kiss him, but Bucky wasn’t sure what the rules were around that. “Steve. If you were really worried about making a mess of your bed, you would have sat on the floor next to me. Just admit you were being lazy and be done with it.”

There was something unbearably sweet about Steve’s laughter that felt both new and familiar.

Really, Bucky considered, the only thing that had really changed here was that Bucky wasn’t constantly trying to ignore the soft spot in his chest that Steve seemed to constantly warm. It was something to think about.

It was definitely not something Natasha could ever know about, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The epilogue should be up shortly, so I'll do my final-final notes in there <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Two years later**

* * *

Somehow, no matter how much things had changed, a lot of it felt easy as breathing.

They had graduated together. Bucky got a new arm courtesy of Tony Stark’s doctoral research because apparently in spite of being a year younger, he was still far ahead of them. Steve had switched paths entirely and had enrolled in a nursing program for next fall, which finally prompted Bucky to ask if they could move in together.

As far as Bucky was concerned, the move had been easier than he had anticipated. It was still hauling a lot of boxes up a lot of stairs, but for all of Steve’s faults he had been the one who had insisted on labelling everything so that, even if very little was unpacked, it was all at least in the right room.

The process of apartment hunting had been awful, but they found a pretty decent place within their budget before the semester started. Bucky was taking the small victory.

They hadn’t gotten much further than unboxing the bare bones before Steve had dragged him to bed, insisting that they christen the place properly.

He didn't know why he was surprised that the first things Steve unpacked were lube, his fucking dick, and the half-empty box of condoms.

Steve was a fucking deviant, but Bucky was probably worse so it evened out all right.

“C’mon, Buck. You can’t start screaming and scare the neighbors before we’ve been here a full day,” Steve admonished.

It was a trial to pick his head up enough to glare at Steve, settled between Bucky’s thighs with that smug smirk on his lips. Same as always.

“Maybe if you’d hurry up and get in me like you promised an hour ago, we wouldn’t have this problem.”

“You’re still so bossy. Haven’t I fucked that out of you by now?” The question was punctuated by a sharp twist of Steve’s wrist.

It worked a cut-off keen out of Bucky, his knees tightening around Steve’s hips as his head fell back against the pillows. 

Really, the main thing Bucky had learned from this was that he was getting better sex out of Steve the longer they were together.

Well. There were a lot of  _ other _ things he’d learned, but that was the important bit right now.

“Stevie, doll, you’ve been goading me to be  _ more _ demanding specifically so you can tease me like that,” he accused. The breathiness of his voice ruined the effect, but damned if he didn't try.

He could feel more than hear Steve’s laughter, the way he shook with it, and it was hard to even be half-heartedly frustrated in response.

Finally, fucking  _ finally _ Steve withdrew his fingers, and Bucky was pretty sure he went limp in an instant.

At least he didn't whine or anything like that. No need to make Steve anymore smug than he currently was.

That didn't stop Steve from trying to coddle him. “There you go,” he said softly, smoothing his dry hand up Bucky’s chest.

The vibrant lines of the rose and thorn tattoo snaking up his arm was a sharp contrast to Bucky’s undecorated skin. It suited Steve. The plethora of tattoos he’d added fit him well.

He slid into Bucky’s waiting body like he belonged there.

After all this time, it felt like he  _ did _ belong there.

“God I love you,” Bucky said, still feeling so small and protected with Steve practically hovering over him.

And, well. It was a little more true now than when Bucky had first thought something along those lines. Steve was still small as anything, but with wiry muscle broadening his shoulders and chest that hadn’t been there back then.

It was hard to even see the scars now, though Bucky knew there was still an odd patch of numb skin beneath his right arm.

Steve smiled, leaning down to press their lips together for a soft, brief moment. “Fucking sap. Love you too.”

Bucky hummed contentedly, gently urging Steve in closer. “Yeah, but you brought it out in me to begin with. It’s your fault that I’m a fucking sap.”

Steve clicked his tongue, pulling out a half inch at best only to push right back in. Punching a sharp gasp out of Bucky which he just  _ knew _ Steve wanted to gloat about.

“How about you hush and let me work you over, huh? I can’t ruin you if you’re going to sit there and be sweet.”

Even though Steve usually cooed about how he  _ was _ sweet, that didn't seem to matter right now. It was just a continuation of the game they had played from the start. Something that Bucky had been worried they would lose the longer they were committed, but it hadn’t seemed to happen yet.

Bucky was pretty sure, in that case, that it wasn’t ever going to happen either.

“Do your worst,” he challenged, stretching both arms overhead.

The soft recalibration of his left arm felt smoother now. Whatever Tony had done to it, it felt almost more natural than it had to begin with, which was a hell of a high bar to begin with.

And somewhere along the line, Steve had started eyeing the shifting plates with a sort of hunger that never got any less thrilling.

Steve sure as fuck didn't disappoint, even if he had taken his sweet time to get here to begin with.

* * *

Bucky was never moving again, still gasping softly for breath long after Steve had sorted himself back out. Every inch of his skin was tingling, something bright and sharp in his veins as he vaguely watched Steve clean up his dick and put it away in the side table.

“So, question.”

He hummed lowly, head rolling to look over at Steve properly. As far as he knew, there wasn’t anything in there yet except for what they had just used, so it should be safe.

And as soon as he managed to piece that thought together, he watched Steve pull a ring box out of there. A dark blue velvet thing that Bucky specifically remembered hiding away in a kitchen box.

He was pretty sure his heart dropped into his stomach, only to immediately leap into his throat. He had been waiting on a moment to bring that up, but he sure as hell wasn’t planning on that moment being  _ now _ . “I should have known you’d go snooping,” he managed to say after a few seconds.

There was something bright and a little mischievous in his eyes as he snagged something else out of the drawer before climbing onto their bed. “Or, more likely,” he said as he managed to pointedly set the blue box down on the covers, “great minds think alike and I had a similar idea.”

For some reason, Steve’s words didn't process until he saw another ring box in Steve’s hand. This one an almost cream color.

The only thing that he could manage to ask was, “Did you seriously hide yours in the same box I hid mine in?”

“The one with the silverware? No, but I put mine in with the pots and pans and couldn’t remember which kitchen box was which. You didn't really hide it very well, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god.” Silent laughter shook his shoulders as he propped himself up onto his elbows. “Is this you proposing, or is this you daring me into proposing?”

Steve grinned, flipping open his box. “I think, since I got the rings out first, that means I’m doing the proposing here. I’m daring you to say yes.”

It was hard to tear his eyes away from Steve’s face to look at the ring. Not that it really mattered what it looked like--Bucky knew damn well he was going to say yes anyways--but he was curious nonetheless.

The ring was daintier than he expected, for some reason. Thin gold bands woven together with a single stone set in the center of it.

Something pretty, and Bucky’s throat tightened as tears pricked his eyes. God, was he actually going to be the one who cried during the proposal?

Actually, that wouldn’t surprise anyone. Steve probably anticipated that.

“I want it on the record that this is  _ definitely _ cheating. You know I say yes to everything you ask me to do after sex.” There was a definite waver to his voice that he couldn’t quite hide, and it probably wouldn’t matter if he  _ did _ hide it. Steve was pretty good at reading him like an open book at this point.

That didn't stop him from rolling onto his side to offer his right hand to Steve. “You gonna put it on me, or do I have to show you mine first?”

Any veneer of bravado cracked instantly, both ring boxes forgotten about as Steve practically launched himself onto Bucky instead.

It left him a little winded, though he still laughed wetly as he wrapped his arms tight around Steve, cradling him to his chest and letting their bare legs tangle together.

“You’re perfect,” Steve whispered, kissing him soundly on the mouth before sitting up just enough to grab the ring. “God, you’re perfect.”

With shaking hands, he slid the gold band over Bucky’s right ring finger. Both of them taking time to admire how it looked against Bucky’s olive skin before Bucky himself got up to get his own ring for Steve.

They didn't particularly match in any sense. There was a delicacy to the ring Bucky wore, but he had a hard time considering anything other than a heavy silver ring so reminiscent of the ones he wore when they first met.

There was a softness to Steve’s face as Bucky put it on him. Right hand as well, since he insisted that they match.

“I was thinking of doing this before,” Steve said, admiring the ring on his finger. “But I wanted to butter you up first, and I was having a hard time keeping my hands off you, y’know?”

He couldn’t help but draw Steve in, lips soft against each other’s, but not as soft as the sigh it got out of Steve.

“If you wanna give me some time, we can always call the first one a test and do the christening for real as fiancés?”

In spite of the pause Steve had to take to dab the wetness away from his eyes, there was still a sharpness to his smile that made Bucky’s heart thud painfully. Same as it always had.

“You want to find out how many times I can go, Buck? I think the vibe works for an hour straight, but I don’t mind fucking you long past the time it dies.”

“I’m already a sure thing, Stevie. You don’t have to keep sweet talking me like this.”

Steve hummed lowly, settling himself comfortably over Bucky’s hips. “No. But I’m not going to stop because you like it just as much as I do.”

And, well. There was definitely an element of truth to that. Definitely something that softened Bucky’s heart as he urged Steve down to kiss him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to do a final thank you to all of you people. I had a really good time writing this, and I've been so grateful for the positive feedback I've received. You all are great, and I adore each and every one of you <3

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [It's Kinda Cute Tho](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21674254) by [SenselessCatharsis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenselessCatharsis/pseuds/SenselessCatharsis)




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